All this made the process very tedious, and the day was drawing to a close when we neared the posts set up to mark the bounds of the two lands. Several times during the day Joyce had come up from his cottage and inspected our work, standing at his own side of the post. He looked at me closely, but did not seem to recognize me. I nodded to him once, but he did not seem to see my salutation, and I did not repeat it.
All day long I never heard the sweet voice; and as we returned to Carnaclif after a blank day—blank in every sense of the word—the air seemed chiller and the sunset less beautiful than before. The last words I heard on the mountain were from Murdock:—
“Nothin’ to-morrow, Mr. Sutherland! I’ve a flittin’ to make, but I pay the day all the same; I hould ye to your conthract. An’ remember, surr, we’re in no hurry wid the wurrk now, so ye’ll not need help any more.”
Andy made no remark till we were well away from the hill, and then said, dryly:—
“I’m afeerd yer ’an’r has had but a poor day; ye luk as if ye hadn’t seen a bit iv bog at all, at all. Gee up, ye ould Corncrake! the gintlemin does be hurryin’ home fur their tay, an’ fur more wurrk wid bogs to-morra!”
CHAPTER V.
ON KNOCKNACAR.
When Sutherland and I had finished dinner that evening we took up the subject of bogs where we had left it in the morning. This was rather a movement of my own making, for I felt an awkwardness about touching on the special subject of the domestic relations of the inhabitants of Knockcalltecrore. After several interesting remarks, Dick said:—
“There is one thing that I wish to investigate thoroughly, the correlation of bog and special geological formations.”
“For instance?” said I.
“Well, specially with regard to limestone. Just at this part of the country I find it almost impossible to pursue the investigation any more than Van Troil could have pursued snake studies in Iceland.”