The Broad Highway - Page 139/374

"Why, Peter told us 'twere only a Scottish man wi' a bagpipe,"

returned Job.

"Ay, for sure," nodded Old Amos, "so 'e did."

"A lie, it be--a lie, a lie!" cried the Ancient, "'twere Old

Nick, I see un--plain as I see you."

"Why, ye see, you 'm gettin' dre'fful old an' 'elpless, Gaffer,"

chuckled Old Amos again, "an' your eyes plays tricks wi' you."

"Ah, to be sure they do!" added Job; whereupon Old Amos chuckled

so much that he was taken by a violent fit of coughing.

"Oh! you chaps, you as I've seen grow up from babbies--aren't

theer one o' ye to tak' the old man's word an' believe as I seen

un?" The cracked old voice sounded more broken than usual, and I

saw a tear crawling slowly down the Ancient's furrowed cheek.

Nobody answered, and there fell a silence broken only by the

shuffle and scrape of heavy boots and the setting down of

tankards.

"Why, ye see, Gaffer," said Job at last, "theer's been a lot o'

talk o' this 'ere ghost, an' some 'as even said as they 'eerd it,

but, come to think on it, nobody's never laid eyes on it but you,

so--"

"There you are wrong, my fellow," said I, stepping into the room.

"I also have seen it."

"You?" exclaimed Job, while half-a-dozen pairs of eyes stared at

me in slow wonderment.

"Certainly I have."

"But you said as it were a Scotchman, wi' a bagpipe, I heerd

ye--we all did."

"And believed it--like fools!"

"Peter!" cried the Ancient, rising up out of his chair, "Peter,

do 'ee mean it?"

"To be sure I do."

"Do 'ee mean it were a ghost, Peter, do 'ee?"

"Why, of course it was," I nodded, "a ghost, or the devil

himself, hoof, horns, tail, and all--to say nothing of the fire

and brimstone."

"Peter," said the Ancient, straightening his bent old back proudly,

"oh, Peter!--tell 'em I'm a man o' truth, an' no liar--tell 'em,

Peter."

"They know that," said I; "they know it without my telling them,

Ancient."

"But," said Job, staring at me aghast, "do 'ee mean to say as you

live in a place as is 'aunted by the--devil 'isself?"

"Oh, Lord bless 'ee!" cried the old man, laying his hand upon my

arm, "Peter don't mind Old Nick no more 'n I do--Peter aren't

afeard of 'im. 'Cause why? 'Cause 'e 'ave a clean 'eart, 'ave

Peter. You don't mind Old Nick, do 'ee, lad?