“I wouldn’t wonder now if you was that son o’ hern who went to sea long years ago and never was heerd on since?” said the farmer, calling after him.
“Yes, I am her son, and I am going to Haymore now to find her. Thank you, and good-day to you,” said Longman.
“I’m dogged glad on it! One widdy’s heart will sing for joy this night, anyhow! Well, good-day, and good luck to you, my lad!” were the last words of the kind-hearted farmer.
When Longman rejoined his two friends, who he had left waiting for him at the farm gate, his happy face told the “glad tidings” before his tongue could speak them.
“Hooray! It’s good news ye’re afther hearing!” cried Mike, throwing up his cap and catching it.
“Yes, I thank the Lord!” replied Longman reverently.
And then, as they walked down the lane and out upon the highroad leading to Chuxton, Longman told them all that he had heard from the farmer.
“So she’s housekeeper at the rectory itself! That’s where your niece, Miss Julia, will be at service, Mr. Quin!” exclaimed Mike; “that is, if she’s not married,” he added.
“Or dead, poor wench!” sighed old Dandy.
“Oh, bother that! Nobody’s dead, or going to die just yet, is there, Samson, man?”