Cant, naked, is honoured throughout England. Cant, clothed in gold, is a king never in England resisted.
"Ben Dare, he be dead?" he asked suddenly. "They telled me so by Darron's side."[A]
Ambrose bent his head, silently.
"When wur't?"
"Last simmar-time, i' th' aftermath."
"It were a ston' as killed him?"
"Ay," said Ambrose, softly shading his eyes with his hand from the sun that streamed through the aisles of pine.
"How wur't?"
"They was a blastin'. He'd allus thoct as he'd dee that way, you know. They pit mair pooder i' quarry than common; and the ston' it split, and roared, and crackit, wi' a noise like tha crack o' doom. And one bit on 't, big as ox, were shot i' th' air, an' fell, unlookit for like, and dang him tew the groun', and crushit him,—a-lyin' richt athwart his brist."