"What was it like?" I inquired, struck by this apparent weakness
in one so hardy and full of health.
"'Twere a scream wi' a bubble in it," he answered, speaking with
an effort, "'twere like somebody shriekin' out wi' 'is throat
choked up wi' blood. Jarge and me didn't wait for no more; we
run. And as we run, it follered, groanin' arter us till we was
out upon the road, and then it shrieked at us from the bushes.
Ecod! it do make me cold to talk of it, even now. Jarge left 'is
best sledge be'ind 'im, and I my crowbar, and we never went back
for them, nor never shall, no." Here Simon paused to mop the
grizzled hair at his temples. "I tell 'ee, Peter, that place
aren't fit for no man at night. If so be you'm lookin' for a
bed, my chap, theer's one you can 'are at 'The Bull,' ready and
willin'."
"An' gratus!" added the Ancient, tapping his snuffbox.
"Thank you," said I, "both of you, for the offer, but I have a
strange fancy to hear, and, if possible, see this ghost for
myself."
"Don't 'ee du it," admonished the Ancient, "so dark an' lonesome
as it be, don't 'ee du it, Peter."
"Why, Ancient," said I, "it isn't that I doubt your word, but my
mind is set on the adventure. So, if Simon will let me have
threepenny worth of candles, and some bread and meat--no matter
what--I'll be off, for I should like to get there before dusk."
Nodding gloomily, Simon rose and went out, whereupon the Ancient
leaned over and laid a yellow, clawlike hand upon my arm.
"Peter," said he, "Peter, I've took to you amazin"; just a few
inches taller--say a couple--an' you'd be the very spit o' what
I were at your age--the very spit."
"Thank you, Ancient!" said I, laying my hand on his.
"Now, Peter, 'twould be a hijious thing--a very hijious thing if,
when I come a-gatherin' watercress in the marnin', I should find
you a-danglin' on t' stapil, cold and stiff--like t' other, or
lyin' a corp wi' your throat cut; 'twould be a hijious--hijious
thing, Peter, but oh! 'twould mak' a fine story in the tellin'."
In a little while Simon returned with the candles, a tinder-box,
and a parcel of bread and meat, for which be gloomily but
persistently refused payment. Last of all he produced a small,
brass-bound pistol, which he insisted on my taking.