“Good father, one plain word, for Heaven's sake, This Gerard Eliassoen of Tergou—is he alive?”
“Humph! Why, certes, he that went by that name is alive.”
“Well, then, that is settled,” said Luke drily. But the next moment he found it necessary to run out of sight and blubber.
“Oh, why did the Lord make any women?” said he to himself. “I was content with the world till I fell in love. Here his little finger is more to her than my whole body, and he is not dead, And here I have got to give him this.” He looked at the letter and dashed it on the ground. But he picked it up again with a spiteful snatch, and went to the landlord, with tears in his eyes, and begged for work, The landlord declined, said he had his own people.
“Oh, I seek not your money,” said Luke, “I only want some work to keep me from breaking my heart about another man's lass.”
“Good lad! good lad!” exploded the landlord; and found him lots of barrels to mend—on these terms, And he coopered with fury in the interval of the boats coming down the Rhine.
CHAPTER LXXXIII
THE HEARTH
Waiting an earnest letter seldom leaves the mind in statu quo.