“Methody?”
“No.”
“Ranter, p’raps?”
“Oh, no, only when I get a little warm.”
“What are you, then?”
“Well, first of all,” said the traveller, quietly, “you’d better answer my question. Is that Dumford?”
The workman hesitated and frowned. It seemed like giving in—being defeated—to answer now, but the clear grey eyes were fixed upon him in a way that seemed to influence his very being, and he said at last, gruffly,
“Well, yes, it is Doomford; and what if it is?”
“Oh, only that I’m the new vicar.”
The workman puffed rapidly at his pipe, his face assuming a look of dislike, and at last he ejaculated, “Ho!”