“Aven so, it’s a dhrame that may kem as thrue as me own swishter Judy’s dhrame about her swateharrt that brought her all through the Black Woods to find him at last.”
“I don’t in the least see how my dream—which was not even a dream, but a passing thought of a bare possibility—can come true,” laughed Longman.
“Then I’ll tell you!” exclaimed Mike. “Ye know Ran, whose life ye saved?”
“Why, of course!” exclaimed Longman in surprise at the vain question.
“Well, I only wanted to mind ye of him. Ye know he has kum into a great estate?”
“Of course, I have heard that, too.”
“Very well, thin. He’s going to live on it. And if ye be in England, and wanting av a keeper’s place, what more natural than Misther Hay should pit you over his own kivvirs? You thet saved his life!”
“But, of course, the estate has a gamekeeper already.”
“Tare an’ ’ounds, man, and supposin’ an’ if it has! Misther Hay wud kape two keepers before he’d lave you out’n the cold!” indignantly exclaimed Mike.
“I know he would do all he possibly could for any of us. But it is time enough to think of all that when we get to England,” said Longman.