They ascended slowly by the steep channels of the Rattle-brook, and presently Gregory rested awhile.
"I can't travel same as once I could," he explained. Then he moralized.
"The world's an up an' down sort of place, like this here fen," he said. "Some holds the good and evil be balanced to a hair, so that every man have his proper share of each; but for my part I can't think it."
"The balance be struck hereafter. That trust a man must cling to—or else he'll get no happiness out of living," answered Daniel; and the other nodded.
"'Tis the only thought as can breed content in the mind; yet for the thousands that profess to believe it, you'll not find tens who really do so."
"I'm sure I do," asserted Brendon.
"At your time of life 'tis easy enough. But wait till you'm threescore and over. Then the spirit gets impatient, and it takes a very large pattern of faith to set such store on the next world that failure in this one don't sting. If I am took from yonder peat works afore their fame be established to the nation, I shall go reluctant, and I own it. There'll be nought so interesting in Heaven—from my point of view—as Amicombe Hill."
"You'll have something better to think of and better to do, master."
"Maybe I shall; but my mind will turn that way, and I shall think it terrible hard if all knowledge touching the future of the place be withholden from me."
"We shall know so much of things down here as be good for our peace of mind, I reckon?" ventured Daniel.