"Sir," said George, in the same slow, heavy way, "I—couldn't go a-nigh the place myself—'specially arter dark—I'd be—ah! I'd be afeard to! I did go once, and then not alone, and I ran away. Sir, you'm a better man nor me; you done what I durstn't do. Sir, if so be as you 'm in the same mind about it—I should like to—to shake your hand."
So there, across the anvil which was to link our lives together thenceforth, Black George and I clasped hands, looking into each other's eyes.
"George," said I at last, "I've had no breakfast."
"Nor I!" said George.
"And I'm mightily hungry!"
"So am I," said George.
"Then come, and let us eat," and I turned to the door.
"Why, so we will—but not at—'The Bull'—she be theer. Come to my cottage—it be close by—that is, if you care to, sir?"
"With all my heart!" said I, "and my name is Peter."
"What do you say to 'am and eggs—Peter?"