Mr. Briarley arose in even more than his usual trepidation. He looked from side to side, quaking.
"Wheer is he?" he asked.
Haworth stood on the threshold.
"Here," he answered. "Come out!"
Mr. Briarley obeyed. At the door Haworth collared him and led him down the sanded passage and into the road outside.
A few yards from the house there was a pump. He piloted him to it and set him against it, and began to swear at him fluently.
"You blasted scoundrel!" he said. "You let it out, did you?"
Mr. Briarley was covered with confusion as with a garment.
"I'm a misforchnit chap as is allus i' trouble," he said. "Theer's summat i' ivverythin' I lay hond on as seems to go agen me. I dunnot see how it is. Happen theer's summat i' me a-bein' a dom'd foo', or happen it's nowt but misforchin. Sararann——"