The Broad Highway - Page 217/374

The cottage, as I have said, was entirely hidden from the chance

observer by reason of the foliage: ash, alder, and bramble

flourished luxuriantly, growing very thick and high, with here

and there a great tree; but, upon one side, there was a little

grassy glade, or clearing rather, some ten yards square, and it

was towards this that my eyes were directed as I reseated myself

upon the settle beside the door, and waited the coming of the

unknown.

Though the shadows were too deep for my eyes to serve me, yet I

could follow the newcomer's approach quite easily by the sound he

made; indeed, I was particularly struck by the prodigious

rustling of leaves. Whoever it was must be big and bulky, I

thought, and clad, probably, in a long, trailing garment.

All at once I knew I was observed, for the sounds ceased, and I

heard nothing save the distant bark of a dog and the ripple of

the brook near by.

I remained there for, maybe, a full minute, very still, only my

fists clenched themselves as I sat listening and waiting--and

that minute was an hour.

"You won't be wantin' ever a broom, now?"

The relief was so sudden and intense that I had much ado to keep

from laughing outright.

"You won't be wantin' ever a broom, now?" inquired the voice

again.

"No," I answered, "nor yet a fine leather belt with a steel

buckle made in Brummagem as ever was."

"Oh, it's you, is it?" said the Pedler, and forthwith Gabbing

Dick stepped out of the shadows, brooms on shoulder and bulging

pack upon his back, at sight of which the leafy tumult of his

approach was immediately accounted for. "So it's you, is it?" he

repeated, setting down his brooms and spitting lugubriously at

the nearest patch of shadow.

"Yes," I answered, "but what brings you here?"

"I be goin' to sleep 'ere, my chap."

"Oh!--you don't mind the ghost, then?"

"Oh, Lord, no! Theer be only two things as I can't abide--trees

as ain't trees is one on em, an' women's t' other."

"Women?"

"Come, didn't I 'once tell you I were married?"

"You did."

"Very well then! Trees as ain't trees is bad enough, Lord

knows!--but women's worse--ah!" said the Pedler, shaking his

head, "a sight worse! Ye see, trees ain't got tongues--leastways

not as I ever heerd tell on, an' a tree never told a lie--or ate

a apple, did it?"