The Broad Highway - Page 105/374

"Wonderfully!" said I.

"An' so strong as a bull?"

"To be sure."

"An' t' stapil can't last much longer--eh, maister? so old an'

rusty as 'e be?"

"One would hardly think so."

"Not so long as a tur'ble vig'rus man, like I be?" he inquired,

with a certain wistful appeal in his eyes.

"No," I answered impulsively.

"I knowed it--I knowed it," he chuckled, feebly brandishing his

stick, "such a poor old stapil as 'tis, all eat up wi' rust.

Every time I come 'ere a-gatherin' watercress, I come in an' give

un a look, an' watch un rustin' away, an' rustin' away; I'll see

un go fust, arter all, so I will!" and, with another nod at the

staple, he turned, and hobbled out into the sunshine.

And seeing how, despite his brave showing, he labored to carry

the heavy basket, I presently took it from him, disregarding his

protests, and set off by his side; yet, as we went, I turned once

to look back at the deserted hut.

"You 'm thinkin' 'tis a tur'ble bad place at night?" said the

old man.

"On the contrary," I answered, "I was thinking it might suit a

homeless man like me very well indeed."

"D'ye mean--to live there?" exclaimed the Ancient.

"Yes," said I.

"Then you bean't afraid o' the ghost?"

"No," I answered.

"P'r'aps you be one o' they fules as think theer bean't no

ghosts?"

"As to that," I answered, "I don't know, but I don't think I

should be much afraid, and it is a great blessing to have some

spot on this unfriendly world that we can call 'home'--even

though it be but a hut, and haunted."

In a little while the path we followed led up a somewhat steep

ascent which, though not so precipitous as the place where I had

entered the hollow, was a difficult climb, notwithstanding;

seeing which, I put out a hand to aid my aged companion. But he

repulsed me almost sharply: "Let be," he panted, "let be, nobody's never 'elped me up this

'ere path, an' nobody never shall!" So up we went, the Ancient

and I, side by side, and very slowly, until, the summit being

reached, he seated himself, spent and breathless, upon a fallen

tree, which had doubtless served this purpose many times before,

and mopped at his wrinkled brow with a trembling hand.