Part 24 (2/2)

”Thatching afresh, Mr. Cregeen?”

”Covering it up, sir; covering it up. May the Lord cover our sins up likewise, or how shall we cover ourselves from His avenging wrath?”

”How vexing!” said Kate, from the tree. ”Half of them get bruised, and will be good for nothing but preserving. They drop at the first touch--so ripe, you see.”

”May we all be ripe for the great gathering, and good for preserving, too,” said Caesar. ”Look at that big one, now--knotted like a blacksmith's muscles, but it'll go rotten as fast as the least lil one of the lot. It's taiching us a lesson, sir, that we all do fall--big mountains as aisy as lil c.o.c.ks. This world is changeable.”

Philip was not listening, but looking up at Kate, with a face of half-frightened tenderness.

”Do you know,” she said, ”I was afraid you must be ill again--your ap.r.o.n, Nancy--that was foolish, wasn't it?”

”No; _I_ have been well enough,” said Philip.

Kate looked at him. ”Is it somebody else?” she said. ”I got your letter.”

”Can I help?” said Philip. ”What is it? I'm sure there's something,”

said Kate.

”Set your foot here,” he said.

”Let me down, I feel giddy.”

”Slowly, then. Hold by this one. Give me your hand.”

Their fingers touched, and communicated fire.

”Why don't you tell me?” she said, with a pa.s.sionate tightening of his hand. ”It's bad news, isn't it? Are you going away?”

”Somebody who went away will never come back,” he answered.

”Is it--Pete?”

”Poor Pete is gone,” said Philip.

Her throat fluttered. ”Gone?”

”He is dead,” said Philip.

She tottered, but drew herself up quickly. ”Stop!” she said. ”Let me make sure. Is there no mistake? Is it true?”

”Too true.”

”I can bear the truth now--but afterwards--to-night--tomorrow--in the morning it might kill me if----”

”Pete is dead, Kate; he died at Kimberley.”

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