144 More Tales of the Birds 



prevented me, and the next day I left the 

 village. 



This happened at the end of June, and it was 

 September before I was home again from the 

 Continent. The man who drove me from the 

 station told me that the old Scholar was dying. 

 I went to his gate through the churchyard, and 

 found it neat and well-trimmed : the church was 

 looking brighter and tidier, and the door was 

 open ; and the tower seemed to have found a 

 fresh youth, with its stringcourse and effigy 

 repaired, and its abundant crop of ivy lopped 

 away from the lancet windows. But no Doctor 

 or his wife were sitting on the gurgoyles, or 

 taking the air on the battlements. I knocked 

 sadly at the old Scholar's door, fearing that he 

 had spent his last days in utter friendlessness. 



His old housekeeper let me in, and took me 

 at once upstairs. He was lying on his bed, 

 facing an open window that looked towards the 

 tower ; there was another to the right with a view 

 of distant cornfields full of autumn sheaves. For 

 once, she told me, that he looked at the corn- 

 fields, he looked a dozen times at the tower : 



