There was silence in the cottage for several minutes after Ned had ceased speaking.
Dan attempted no reply, but finished his dinner in somewhat sulky reserve; then appearing suddenly to remember that he had to look after the cows, the boy rose and slunk out of the place. Dan did not, however, go in the direction of the fields, but into the village to play at pitch-and-toss with Tom and Jack Mullins, and to tell them wonderful stories of his sailor uncle, who was, he said, a first-rate fellow for fighting, and polished off Russians as fast as they might knock down ninepins, but who had a ticklish temper to deal with, flaring up like fire at a word.
[CHAPTER III.]
THINKING IT OVER.
"You took Dan up sharp, brother," said Bessy, as her son quitted the cottage.
"Maybe I did," answered Ned, frankly. "I'm trying to keep down that hot temper of mine, but there's nothing stirs it up like anything of deceit, and it gets in a blaze afore I'm aware. There was something in the lad's looks more than his words, that made me fancy him one of those who don't see clearly the difference atween truth and falsehood, and who get amongst the shoals almost without knowing it. I wanted to show him the beacon lights set in the Bible to warn us off them, that's all."
"Ah! Dan's quick enough at lying," said Bessy, with a sigh. "I can't believe a word that he says. Many and many's the time I tells him, 'Dan, with all those fine stories of yours, you'll get into trouble at last.'"
"And don't you tell him," said Ned, "that God hears, and marks down, and that 'every idle word that men shall speak, they shall give account thereof in the Day of Judgment'?" *
* Matt. xii. 36.
"Oh! I'm not one of your saints that likes religion brought in at every turn," said Bessy, peevishly. "'Tis all well enough to go decently to church on Sundays: and dear me!" she exclaimed, suddenly interrupting herself, and starting up from her seat. "If that is not Mrs. Curtis coming over the green! That woman is always taking one unawares."