‘You wait while I do get my breath back,’ said the old man. He had evidently been drinking and walked unsteadily. ‘Ah, that’s better! Well, Abner, I’ve a’ been down to the Buffalo to-night for a quart, and I thought as how I’d bring ’ee a bit of downright good news I heared. Yes, old Mrs Malpas she’ve got news from Shrewsbury—whether it be by letter or word of mouth I can’t say for certain—as young George have behaved himself so well into prison that they’m going to knock off part of his time. Any day this week he may be coming home along, so they says, and I thought I’d better bring the news quick to his missus.’
‘Coming home . . .?’ said Abner, dazed.
‘Yes. ’Tis not onusual, they do say. If she’s abed you can tell her in the marnin’. Wish ’ee good-night, Abner.’
‘I’ll tell her. Thank’ee for looking in.’
‘Oh, that’s nothing! ’Tis only natural. Good-night!’
‘Good-night, Mr Drew.’
He closed the door. The light fell on Mary, standing pale at the foot of the stairs.
‘He’s coming back,’ said Abner.
‘I heard. When?’
‘He couldn’t say certain. In a day or two.’