Part 48 (2/2)
”Was I, mistress? And pray how do you know?”
”I guessed it, father. That poor boy!”
”Perhaps I was,” grumbled the landlord; ”but I'm not going to do so now.”
”Oh, don't say that, father!”
”But I have said it; and now, both of you go about your work.”
”Oh, father, pray, pray send!”
”Do you want to see me hung, madam?”
”No, no, father; but n.o.body will know.”
”I know--you know--he knows; and there's an end of it. Be off!”
The girl and boy both went out, and directly after the former made a sign which the latter interpreted to mean ”Come round to the kitchen.”
As soon as the landlord was left alone he drew himself a mug of cider, lit his pipe, and chuckled.
”Wonder how my apples are getting on?” he said. ”I must have a good cider year this time; ought to be, anyhow.” Then aloud at the door, ”Keep an eye to the door, Polly,” he cried. ”I'm going down the orchard.”
”Yes, father; I'll mind.”
”That'll do it,” said the landlord, laughing till his face grew as red as his own apples. ”n.o.body can't come and accuse me of sending the boy, and they'll never suspect her.”
He walked right down the orchard, and then crept quickly to the hedge, stooped down, went nearer to the house, and then watched and listened.
”Ha! ha! ha!” he laughed softly. ”I knew she would. Good-hearted girl!
There he goes.”
The landlord rubbed his hands as, turning to a hole in the hedge, he saw his boy d.i.c.k go off at a canter, lying flat down on the back of a little Exmoor pony, his arms on each side of the pony's neck, till he was over the nearest hill and descending into the valley, when he sat up and urged the pony on at as fast a gallop as the little beast could go.
”Nice promise of apples,” said the landlord, contentedly smiling up at the green cl.u.s.ters. ”Now, if I could have my wish, I should like a splendid crop of fox-whelps and gennet-moyles. Then I should like peace. Lastly, I should like to see all the gentry who are fighting and cutting one another's throats shake hands outside my door, and have a mug of my best cider. And all these wishes I wish I may get. There, now I'll go in.”
He went slowly back to the house, puffing away at his pipe, and directly after encountered his red-faced daughter, who looked ruddier than ever as the old man looked at her searchingly, chuckling to himself the while. ”I'll give her such a scare,” he said.
”Want me, father?”
”Want you? Of course I do. Go and call d.i.c.k.”
”d.i.c.k, father?” she faltered.
”Yes; didn't I speak plainly! Call d.i.c.k.”
<script>