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can have a bed here； Willet； I suppose？’
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Old John； immensely flattered by the personal notoriety
implied in this familiar form of address； answered； with something
like a knowing look； ‘I should believe you could； sir；’ and was
turning over in his mind various forms of eulogium； with the view
of selecting one appropriate to the qualities of his best bed； when
his ideas were put to flight by Mr Chester giving Barnaby the
letter； and bidding him make all speed away。
‘Speed！’ said Barnaby； folding the little packet in his breast；
‘Speed！ If you want to see hurry and mystery； come here。 Here！’
With that； he put his hand； very much to John Willet’s horror；
on the guest’s fine broadcloth sleeve； and led him stealthily to the
back window。
‘Look down there；’ he said softly； ‘do you mark how they
whisper in each other’s ears； then dance and leap； to make believe
they are in sport？ Do you see how they stop for a moment； when
they think there is no one looking； and mutter among themselves
again； and then how they roll and gambol； delighted with the
mischief they’ve been plotting？ Look at ’em now。 See how they
whirl and plunge。 And now they stop again； and whisper；
cautiously together—little thinking； mind； how often I have lain
upon the grass and watched them。 I say what is it that they plot
and hatch？ Do you know？’
‘They are only clothes；’ returned the guest； ‘such as we wear；
hanging on those lines to dry； and fluttering in the wind。’
‘Clothes！’ echoed Barnaby； looking close into his face； and
falling quickly back。 ‘Ha ha！ Why； how much better to be silly；
than as wise as you！ You don’t see shadowy people there； like
those that live in sleep—not you。 Nor eyes in the knotted panes of
glass； nor swift ghosts when it blows hard； nor do you hear voices
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in the air； nor see men stalking in the sky—not you！ I lead a
merrier life than you； with all your cleverness。 You’re the dull
men。 We’re the bright ones。 Ha！ ha！ I’ll not change with you；
clever as you are；—not I！’
With that； he waved his hat above his head； and darted off。
‘A strange creature； upon my word！’ said the guest； pulling out
a handsome box； and taking a pinch of snuff。
‘He wants imagination；’ said Mr Willet； very slowly； and after a
long silence； ‘that’s what he wants。 I’ve tried to instil it into him；
many and many’s the time； but’—John added this in confidence—
‘he an’t made for it； that’s the fact。’
To record that Mr Chester smiled at John’s remark would be
little to the purpose； for he preserved the same conciliatory and
pleasant look at all times。 He drew his chair nearer to the fire
though； as a kind of hint that he would prefer to be alone； and
John； having no reasonable excuse for remaining； left him to
himself。
Very thoughtful old John Willet was； while the dinner was
preparing； and if his brain were ever less clear at one time than
another； it is but reasonable to suppose that he addled it in no
slight degree by shaking his head so much that day。 That Mr
Chester； between whom and Mr Haredale； it was notorious to all
the neighbourhood； a deep and bitter animosity existed； should
come down there for the sole purpose； as it seemed； of seeing him；
and should choose the Maypole for their place of meeting； and
should send to him express； were stumbling blocks John could not
overcome。 The only resource he had； was to consult the boiler； and
wait impatiently for Barnaby’s return。
But Barnaby delayed beyond all precedent。 The visitor’s dinner
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was served； removed； his wine was set； the fire replenished； the
hearth clean swept； the light waned without； it grew dusk； became
quite dark； and still no Barnaby appeared。 Yet； though John Willet
was full of wonder and misgiving； his guest sat cross…legged in the
easy…chair； to all appearance as little ruffled in his thoughts as in
his dress—the same calm； easy； cool gentleman； without a care or
thought beyond his golden toothpick。
‘Barnaby’s late；’ John ventured to observe； as he placed a pair
of tarnished candlesticks； some three feet high； upon the table；
and snuffed the lights they held。
‘He is rather so；’ replied the guest； sipping his wine。 ‘He will not
be much longer； I dare say。’
John coughed and raked the fire together。
‘As your roads bear no very good character； if I may judge from
my son’s mishap； though；’ said Mr Chester； ‘and as I have no fancy
to be knocked on the head—which is not only disconcerting at the
moment； but places one； besides； in a ridiculous position with
respect to the people who chance to pick one up—I shall stop here
to…night。 I think you said you had a bed to spare。’
‘Such a bed； sir；’ returned John Willet； ‘ay； such a bed as few；
even of the gentry’s houses； own。 A fixter here； sir。 I’ve heard say
that bedstead is nigh two hundred years of age。 Your noble son—a
fine young gentleman—slept in it last； sir； half a year ago。’
‘Upon my life； a recommendation！’ said the guest； shrugging his
shoulders and wheeling his chair nearer to the fire。 ‘See that it be
well aired； Mr Willet； and let a blazing fire be lighted there at once。
This house is something damp and chilly。’
John raked the faggots up again； more from habit than
presence of mind； or any reference to this remark； and was about
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to withdraw； when a bounding step was heard upon the stair； and
Barnaby came panting in。
‘He’ll have his foot in the stirrup in an hour’s time；’ he cried；
advancing。 ‘He has been riding hard all day—has just come
home—but will be in the saddle again as soon as he has eat and
drank； to meet his loving friend。’
‘Was that his message？’ asked the visitor； looking up； but
without the smallest discomposure—or at least without the show
of any。
‘All but the last words；’ Barnaby rejoined。 ‘He meant those。 I
saw that； in his face。’
‘This for your pains；’ said the other； putting money in his hand；
and glancing at him steadfastly。’ This for your pains； sharp
Barnaby。’
‘For Grip； and me； and Hugh； to share among us；’ he rejoined；
putting it up； and nodding； as he counted it on his fingers。 ‘Grip
one； me two； Hugh three； the dog； the goat； the cats—well； we
shall spend it pretty soon； I warn you。 Stay。—Look。 Do you wise
men see nothing there； now？’
He bent eagerly down on one knee； and gazed intently at the
smoke； which was rolling up the chimney in a thick black cloud。
John Willet； who appeared to consider himself particularly and
chiefly referred to under the term wise men； looked that way
likewise； and with great solidity of feature。
‘Now； where do they go to； when they spring so fast up there；’
asked Barnaby； ‘eh？ Why do they tread so closely on each other’s
heels； and why are they always in a hurry—which is what you
blame me for； when I only take pattern by these busy folk about
me？ More of ’em！ catching to each other’s skirts； and as fast as
Charles