“No, sir; but we’ve come across this chap, as has got a cock-and-bull story about something, and I think it means that he’s seen him.”
“Yes—what? Where? How?” cried Ramball, catching hold of the man by the shoulders and letting go again directly, to dive into his hat for his handkerchief. “Why, you are all wet and muddy!” he cried, wiping his hands. “Where did you see him?”
“The giant, sir?” said the poor fellow, shivering.
“Giant?” cried Ramball. “Well, yes, giant if you like. Where did you see him?”
“It was about a mile down the road, sir, and we was coming down the Cut Lane with a load of clover, my mate and me, which we had been to fetch for the governor’s horses in the yard here. My mate was driving, and I was sitting on a heap of the clover, stacked up on the hind ladder of the cart. We’d stopped a while after loading up, being a bit tired, to give the horses a drink, and it had got dark, while as we was coming home, me sitting behind as I telled you, and my mate driving in front, all of a suddent, and just as I was half-asleep and smoking my pipe, a great big giant loomed up on t’other side of the hedge, and before I knew where I was he reaches down, slips his arm round me, and lifts me right out of the cart.”
The man wiped his face with his muddy hand and uttered a low groan.
“Well, go on,” cried Ramball. “What next?”
“Don’t hurry me, master, please,” said the man piteously. “I’m shook all to pieces, and feel that freckened that I could sit down and cry. I was too much staggered to call out for help, and when I tried to look round, my mate and the cart was gone, and this ’ere great thing was carrying me away right across Snow’s field, and all I could think of was that he was hungry and had made me his prey.”
“Humph! An ogre, I suppose,” said the Colonel to the boys.
“No, sir,” said the man; “it was one of them there great giants as you read of in books; and no matter how I tried to get away, he only hugged me the tighter.”