In the midst of his reflections, he heard a sudden tap against the window at his back, and looking round, he saw Hal's face pressed against the glass. The boy nodded; so did the bailiff—in spite of his grumps; and Hal swung himself off to ring at the bell, sitting down in the porch to wait.
Elspeth was more astonished than ever, on taking her usual peep through the slit window.
"Well! If you ain't layin' yourself open to hear a lot of language that ain't fit for the ears of the likes o' you!" exclaimed she, as she opened the door. "The master's that mad about the goose, that he's done nothing but swear ever since they brought her in."
Hal was already on his feet—or rather, his crutches.
"Never mind," said he. "It won't hurt me if he swears ever so. It's not what goes in at your ears that defiles you, you know, but what comes out of your mouth; because that shows what's in your heart."
So Hal went in, and was announced as before—"The young Squire, sir!"
Farmer Bluff was looking towards the door in expectation. His features relaxed on sight of the boy's cheery face.
Hal wished him "good morning."
"Left hand," said he, as his young master swung himself across to shake hands. The right arm was suspended from his neck in a large checked handkerchief.
Hal looked serious. "Is that gout too, Mr. Bluff?" asked he, standing in front of him, and eyeing the bandaged arm.