being into dizziness. No passions or emotions now affected him; but
their memory created an atmosphere of puzzledom. He had to adjust
values. He had to deputize for Destiny. He also had to harmonize the
pathetically absurd with the grimly real. He took off his cap and
scratched his cropped head. After a while he damned something
indefinite and hastened in his dot-and-carry-one fashion to the van.

"Quite made up yer mind to go in search of yer 'ighborn parents?"

"Ay," said Paul.

"Like me to give yer a lift, say, as far as London?"

Paul sprang to the ground and opened his mouth to speak. But his
knees grew weak and he quivered all over like one who beholds the
god. The abstract nebulous romance of his pilgrimage had been
crystallized, in a flash, into the concrete. "Ay," he panted.

"Ay!" and he steadied himself with his back and elbows against the
shafts.

"That's all right," said Barney Bill, in a matter-of fact way, calm
and godlike to Paul. "You can make up a bed on the floor of the old
'bus with some of them there mats inside and we'll turn in and have
a sleep, and start at sunrise."

He clambered into the van, followed by Paul, and lit an oil lamp. In
a few moments Paul's bed was made. He threw himself down. The
resilient surface of the mats was luxury after the sacking on the
scullery stone. Barney Bill performed his summary toilet, blew out