"Joe," said the landlord of the Falconer's Arms a few days after to his ostler and factotum,—"Joe, we've got to horse the carriage that's to carry away the family from the Moat, d'ye hear?"
"Yes, sir."
"Well, Joe, somebody must drive;" and the landlord smoothed his grey hair, and rubbed it up again, and looked perplexed, while Joe looked stolid.
"Joe, my lad, you must drive them," at last said the landlord, well knowing how hard a task he was setting to one whose whole family and lifetime had been comforted and helped by the kind lady at the Moat.
"Sir, master, don't ye now; I can't do it, indeed I can't. I'd sooner be thrashed." And poor Joe looked almost tearfully earnest.
"So would I, Joe, but I can't do it myself; and after all, it will be better for a friend to do it; they'll feel it less themselves than if I got a stranger, and they always like your driving, Joe; yes, you must do it, that's all about it."
After a pause, during which Joe might have been cogitating the possible consequences of a flat refusal,—
"Which 'osses, master?" said he gloomily.
"The black ones, Joe—black harness and all—just like a funeral. I shan't let my spanking bays go on no such an errand. And if Squire Hazelwood should be here, he'll see mourning, that's all."
"Mourning enough," thought Joe, walking off, and grumbling to himself. "The beautifullest, nicest, best lady in all the country round, and as good a pair of children as ever was set eyes on! What will us do to show our love and our trouble all at once, I wonder? Why, if ever poor Joe gets to heaven, it's cause she taught me the way. And I'm to drive her away from the only home she's got on earth! I wish I could take her straight to paradise among the angels she's like; wouldn't I! And never come back no more. Well, don't be a fool, Joe, but do your duty as she's bid you; that's the best way to show gratitude and love to her. But if we goes with them old black 'osses' funeral paces, we'll have all the village sobbing round us, and none of us can't stand that. I must drive and whip and shout my best for all sakes, and so you old 'osses must just step out for once."