"I am glad to see you at home again, Sam," said Mrs. Fenwick, with something, however, of an inner feeling that perhaps she might be saluting a murderer.
Sam touched his cap, but did not utter a word, or look away from his work. They passed on amidst the heaps in front of the mill, and came to the porch before the cottage. Here, as had been his wont in all these idle days, the miller was sitting with a pipe in his mouth. When he saw the lady he got up and ducked his head, and then sat down again. "If your wife is here, I'll just step in, Mr. Brattle," said Mrs. Fenwick.
"She be there, ma'am," said the miller, pointing towards the kitchen window with his head. So Mrs. Fenwick lifted the latch and entered. The parson sat himself down by the miller's side.
"I am heartily glad, Mr. Brattle, that Sam is back with you here once again."
"He be there, at work among the rest o' 'em," said the miller.
"I saw him as I came along. I hope he will remain here now."
"I can't say, Muster Fenwick."
"But he intends to do so?"
"I can't say, Muster Fenwick."
"Would it not be well that you should ask him?"