Ducks stood on their heads in the water, or quacked comfortably as they swam about, apparently either oblivious or indifferent to the fact that there were callers.
From somewhere in the distance could be heard the sound of a horse stamping in its stall.
At the end of five minutes an old man appeared carrying a pail. At the sight of strangers, he stopped dead, his slobbering lips gaping in surprise.
"Can I see Mr. Timkins?" enquired Mr. Hearty, in refined but woolly tones.
"Farmer be over there wi' Bessie. I tell un she'll foal' fore night; but 'e will 'ave it she won't. 'E'll see. 'e will," he added with the air of a fatalist.
Mr. Hearty turned aside and became interested in the ducks, whilst Mrs. Bindle flushed a deep vermilion. Bindle said nothing; but watched with enjoyment the confusion of the others.
The man stared at them, puzzled to account for their conduct.
"Where did you say Mr. Timkins was to be found?" enquired Mr. Hearty.
"I just tell ee, in the stable wi' Bessie. 'E says she won't foal; but I know she will. Why she——"
Mr. Hearty did not wait for further information; but turned and made for what, from the motion of the man's head, he took to be the stable.