“Get off to bed, lad! You’ve to be up early to-morrow!” was all his father had replied.
“Thou hast gained thy brother!” Maniwel’s thoughts worked upon that short sentence for an hour and brought both Baldwin and Inman within their scope. It was not to be wondered at that his first concern was for his old workmate.
“I doubt that young man’s working tha harm, lad,” he said aloud, but in a low voice, as if Baldwin had been seated in grannie’s chair where his eyes were resting. “Tha played me a fouler trick than anyone knows on and was fain to be rid of me; but I’m grieved, lad, to see tha brought so low.”
Again he fixed his eyes on the fire, and again his lips began to move.
“I happen did wrong to leave tha; though, right enough, tha never asked me to stop, and I know I should ha’ been i’ thi way. I fear tha’rt going t’ wrong road, lad,—body and soul; and this young fellow’s helping tha. The Lord deliver tha from him, and all such like! I’d give my other hand to save tha, for it’s a sad thing when a man loses his brass, but it’s a sadder when he loses his soul!”
There was a longer pause this time before he continued:
“It ’ud be no good going up to see tha again. It’s turned ten, and tha’ll be ower drunk, poor lad, to be talked to. I’d like to warn tha again’ Inman, for it’s borne in on me ’at he’s working thi ruin o’ set purpose, and maybe if we were to put wer heads together we could pull through. I’d give aught for an hour’s talk wi’ tha, lad, i’ thi right mind; but when drink’s in, wit’s out——”
He continued in this strain until nearly midnight, and then went sorrowfully to bed.