"I'll come again," said he, "if you like it. There's one thing more I was thinking. It's in the Bible. 'Thou hast destroyed thyself.' I don't remember who it was, but I've got the words in my head somehow. It's a pity to destroy yourself, isn't it?—Because there are so many ways that you can't help, of getting destroyed."
Farmer Bluff shifted again; and Hal, resting on his crutches, looked as if he very much wished he knew how to go on. But it was rather difficult, especially when the old fellow didn't make any reply.
At length, he put his right crutch forward, preparatory to moving on. "Well, good morning, Mr. Bluff," said he. "Don't forget about the mug; and I hope your gout will be better. I should like you to go on being bailiff when I'm Squire, because I'm used to you, and strangers aren't so nice. Good morning."
And away went the crutches across the floor, with their measured tap, tap, whilst the old bailiff sat looking after him with an astonished expression on his face; and when Hal, halting to turn the door-handle, gave him a last bright nod, he nodded too, twice or thrice. Then he twisted himself round in his chair, to watch the boy across the yard. But Hal went first to pay his respects to Grip, and peep round the corner of the house at Blazer. Catching sight of the old man through the window as he passed, however, he approached and put his face close to the glass.
"Don't forget the mug!" called he.
Whereupon Farmer Bluff, too much astonished even to nod, took the empty heirloom in his hand, turning it over and over, and falling back again into a brown study.
Out in the road again, Hal looked about for Dick. But he was nowhere to be seen. Dick was one of those people who find time hang very heavy when they have to wait; and seeking temporary diversion, he had completely forgotten his appointment with Hal.
Just past the farmyard was a pathway over the fields, behind the orchard and back premises; and having perched himself upon the stile to wait, it occurred to Dick to wonder where it led to. No sooner wondered than both Dick's legs were over the top-rail, and, jumping down, he started off to see for himself, whistling as he went.
Now, these back premises were Blazer's especial charge; and such a vigilant sentinel was Blazer, that he no sooner heard the sound of Dick's whistle than he was up in arms.
Dick came to a halt, remembering the character he had heard of the beast from Bill the Kicker's father. But at that very moment, who should appear from behind the orchard but Bill himself.