He chattered till Josh Peatheyjohns and his market cart appeared in the road ahead.
"Come on, grandfather!" shouted the farmer, and soon Billy was borne away, while Jacob rode his horse through the autumnal lanes. He passed Bullstone Farm, but did not enter; then he descended to Glaze Brook, where the ancient pear tree stood, more ghostly than ever in its cerecloth of grey lichens; and then he climbed to Owley.
Robert Elvin had already gone to the fair, with two ponies and a dozen ewe lambs to sell. His mother and father were at home, and Jacob, tethering his horse, knocked at the door. Mrs. Elvin admitted him and he soon sat beside the sick farmer. Joe suffered from paralysis and was now bed-ridden. He took his troubles ill and seemed not very grateful for Bullstone's call. His wife was weary and worn. She confessed, as she saw the visitor to his horse an hour later, that it would be a great blessing when it pleased the Lord to remove her husband; and she uttered a hope that Jacob would not feel her son too young to carry on.
"Bob's a man in all but years," she said, "and you can trust him, as Joe has trusted him ever since he was struck down."
But Bullstone made no promises. He condoled with the wife and agreed that her husband could not go too soon, since his life was a burden to him and all brought in contact with him. He praised Robert, who was favourably known, and, after leaving Owley, rode round the farm and satisfied himself that no neglect appeared. He then called on Jane Huxam at Owley Cot and heard that Jeremy had gone to the fair. Jane was packing and she declared herself very sorry to depart.
"The green-grocer's is likely to suit my husband best, however," she said, "because the brightest of him, which is his manners, is thrown away as a huckster. He's a born shopman and he'll be nearer his parents, which will be a comfort. Yes, there's dilapidations, Jacob—I see your eyes roaming round; but nothing to name; and when Margery was here backalong, she granted I'd took very good care of the garden."
"Where are you going to live?" he asked.
"Over the shop. It's smaller than this nice house, of course, and no beautiful garden. We can't expect that; but it's in a good part of Brent as you know, and but two minutes from the post-office."
Jacob grunted.
"Jeremy's thrown away the best chance he's ever likely to get."