“You needn’t be skeard about them, sir; that there pony wouldn’t near one if you tried to make him.”
Oldroyd nodded, and the man trotted to the front, the pony following, and, in spite of two or three proposals that they should change places, the guide kept on in the same untiring manner.
Here and there, though, when they had passed the common, and were ascending the hills, the man took hold of the pony’s mane, and trudged by the side; and during these times Oldroyd learned all about the fight in the fir wood.
“Whose place was it at?” said Oldroyd at last.
“Sir John Day’s, sir.”
After that they proceeded in silence till they reached the first houses of a long, straggling hamlet, when a thought occurred to Oldroyd to which he at once gave utterance.
“I say, my man, why didn’t you go to Doctor Blunt? He was two miles nearer to you than I am.”
Caleb laughed hoarsely, and shook his head.
Oldroyd checked his willing little mount at a long, low cottage beside the road, and went down the strip of garden. Three men were at the door, and they made way for him, touching their hats in a surly fashion as he came up.
“Know how he is?” said Oldroyd, sharply.