When closing time came, John Tyler made a great business of looking over the stables before shutting them, and when he went back to the inn parlour, where his wife was waiting for him to go up to bed, he said, "If old Toby don't soon come back, I shall have to get somebody else to look after things out there."
"I should think so, indeed," said Mrs. Tyler tartly. "You might have looked after somebody else a month ago. When are you coming upstairs?" she added, as he turned to secure the wooden latch of the door.
There was no more said that night, but the next morning, when Tyler was dressing himself, he remarked, in a casual way, "I think I shall get a boy to take old Toby's place."
His wife laughed. "So you've come to my way of thinking at last, John Tyler," she said, as she briskly tied the strings of her white muslin cap before going downstairs.
Eric Hunter's name had not been mentioned; but that was the lad Tyler had in his mind when he spoke to his wife. And after breakfast, he went across the garden and orchard, and out into the forest road, for that was the nearest way to the widow's cottage, and he had made up his mind to see Eric at once and conclude the business, for fear another village lad should come after the place.
Eric was fourteen now, a tall, sturdy lad, strong and healthy, in spite of his refined face, that flushed crimson when he opened the door and saw the landlord of The Magpie standing on the step.
"Mother is dead, sir," he said, in a quiet, weary tone, as though it was an everyday fact he was speaking of.
"Yes, my boy, I heard about it yesterday, and I thought I would just step up and see if things had been put comfortable for her." And there the landlord stopped, and gazed round the little bare room.
The widow's spinning-wheel stood in one corner, a small deal table in the centre, and two rush-bottomed chairs were placed back against the wall, but all was scrupulously clean and neat.
"I've done everything that mother told me, you will see, sir." And the boy led the way into an inner room, and there, in the dim light, Tyler saw the outlined figure of the poor woman, with a sheet carefully drawn over it. "Mother told me I was to do that, and then wait until God sent help to me, and I've been waiting, only somehow it seemed a long time. Did God send you, sir?" asked the boy, as though he had expected a less commonplace messenger than the landlord of The Magpie.