There was a brief pause, then Will changed the conversation abruptly.
“How’s your brother Jan?” he asked.
“He’s furnishing his new house and busy about the formation of a volunteer corps. I met him not long since in Fingle Gorge.”
“Be you friends now, if I may ax?”
“I tried to be. We live and learn. Things happened to me a while ago that taught me what I didn’t know. I spoke to him and reminded him of the long years in Africa. Blood’s thicker than water, Blanchard.”
“So ’tis. What did he make of it?”
“He looked up and hesitated. Then he shook his head and set his face against me, and said he would not have my friendship as a gift.”
“He’s a gude hater.”
“Time will bring the best of him to the top again some day. I understand him, I think. We possess more in common than people suppose. We feel deeply and haven’t a grain of philosophy between us.”
“Well, I reckon I’ve allus been inclined to deep ways of thought myself; and work up here, wi’ nothing to break your thoughts but the sight of a hawk or the twinkle of a rabbit’s scut, be very ripening to the mind. If awnly Phoebe was here! Sometimes I’m in a mood to ramp down-long an’ hale her home, whether or no. But I sweats the longing out o’ me wi’ work.”