They told him about their difficulty in finding any trace of him, and he called Collins a donkey for not directing them better, and forgetting to say that her name and his were different.
"Never mind," he said; "here you are at last.

We've been looking out for you for a long time.

My missis never hears wheels nowadays but what she runs to the door to see if it's you." Lycett's farm was a long, low, white house with a yew hedge leading from the garden gate to the front door.

This hedge, of which Collins had told them, was famous in the neighbourhood; for it was enormously old, and as thick almost as masonry, and it was kept so carefully clipped that it was as smooth also as a wall.

At the gate itself the yews were cut into tall pillars with a pheasant at the top of each, and then there were smaller pillars at intervals all the way up the path, about twenty yards, with a thick joining band of yew between them.