"It do seem a pity he ben't a young orphan female instead of a wore-out old man, for then he cud move on into Barradine Home and be fed on the best for naught."
The cottage and other cottages about Otterford Mill, although close to the Abbey estate, did not belong to it. They were the property of various small owners, and Bates' landlord, as Dale knew, was a tradesman at Old Manninglea.
Dale, having heard the news on a Sunday evening, put his check-book in his pocket very early next morning and rode over the heath to the market town. There he saw Bates' landlord, readily obtained leave to withdraw the notice, cleared off the arrears, and paid rent for a year in advance. Then he rode straight to Otterford Mill.
"Good morning, William. Pray come in. But will your horse stand quiet there?"
"Oh, yes, sir. He'll stand quiet enough. Only too glad of the chance to stand. I keep him moving, you know."
"Don't he ever get jerking at the rein, and break his bridle?"
"If he did he wouldn't run away. He'd be too ashamed of himself for what he'd done."
"Then step inside, William," said Mr. Bates once more.
He ushered Dale into a bare, sad-looking room; and the whole cottage smelled of nakedness, famine, misery.
"Now, my dear old friend," said Dale cheerily, "what's all this whispering that reaches my ears in re you thinking of changing your quarters and leaving us?"