No answer. He knocked again. Surely Aunt Hannah must be about somewhere. Eleven o'clock; how quiet the house was!
This time there was a clatter of a chair on a flagged floor inside, and a person with a slow laboured step came and opened.
It was Reuben. He adjusted his spectacles with difficulty, and stared at the intruder.
'Uncle Reuben!—I thought it was such a fine day, I'd just run over and see the old place, and bring you some news,' said David, smiling and holding out his hand.
Reuben took it, stupefied. 'Davy,' he said, trembling. Then with a sudden movement he whipped the door to behind him, and shut it close.
'Whist!' he said, putting his old finger to his lip. 'T' servant's just settlin her i' t' kitchen. She's noa ready yet—she's been terr'ble bad th' neet. Coom yo here.' And he descended the steps with infinite care, and led David to the wood-shed.
'Is Aunt Hannah ill?' asked David, astonished.
Reuben leant against the wall of the shed, and took off his spectacles, as though to wipe them with his old and shaking hands. Then David saw a sort of convulsion pass across his ungainly face.
'Aye,' he said, looking down, 'aye, she's broken is Hannah. Yo didna knaw?'
'I've heard nothing.'