“He’d a bit to wait wol Inman’s knee mended, but there came a darkish night when Inman turned up again, and a woman close on his heels. He guessed it wor Nancy, but he didn’t follow ayther on ’em, flayed o’ one or t’other of ’em picking him out. He always had a car and a bike i’ our shed and kep’ t’ key in his pocket, so he could get off back before daylight. He knew Inman ’ud be sure to try agen t’ next night, and t’ rest you know as well as me.”
“Well, this is a licker!” remarked Job; “but I’m one o’ them ’at’s heard nowt, Swithin, or next to nowt. They didn’t keep Jagger, then?”
“Keep Jagger!” The contempt in the old man’s voice was the most emphatic of negatives. “Do you think, Job, wi’ a man like Mr. Harris i’ t’ chair they wor likely to keep Jagger? And ’at after what Harker had to tell ’em?’ ‘We’re very much obliged to you, Mr. Drake,’ he says, smiling, ‘and hope you haven’t been put to no inconvenience,’ he says. It wor different wi’ t’other, and there wor no smiles for him, I can tell you. He’s got to go to t’ ’Sizes.”
“But they tell me Maniwel’s bailin’ him out,” said Job incredulously.
“And it’s trewth they tell you,” returned Swithin, “ ‘the trewth, the ’ole trewth, and nothing but the trewth,’ ” he added with fond reminiscence of his police-court experiences. “And that’s where I part comp’ny wi’ Maniwel, being what t’ Scriptur’ calls casting your pearls before swine.”
“Hearken tul him!” interjected Ambrus, in a thin but decidedly approving voice. “He’s in his gifted mood to-day, is Swith’n!”
“Two hunderd pound he has to lay down alongside two hunderd more ’at some Airlee fella offered; to say nowt o’ t’ three hunderd Inman has to find his-sen. Mr. Harris tell’d him to take his time and think it ower, and Jagger’s face wor as black as a chimley; but there’s no moving Maniwel when he sets his-sen; and Jagger stuck up for his dad as we come home i’ t’ train. He’s a lad ’at’s going to tak’ a bit o’ sizing up, is Jagger.”
“It’ll be a sad job, neebours,” said Ambrose, “if so be as Maniwel loses his bits o’ savings after all t’ labour him and Jagger’s put intul their business, and yon Inman’s a lad ’at I’d trust as far as I could trace him. But it’s allus been a sayin’ o’ Maniwel’s ’at when a man’s past mending he’s past fending, and he’s for casting out devils wi’ fair-spokken words. Eh! neebours, but it grieves me to think ’at there’s all these gurt happenin’s i’ t’ village and my poor owd brain a-whirlin’ round same as a lad’s peg-top. If I’d ha’ been i’ my prime I could ha’ made a set o’ grand verses out on it all, but ivery dog has his day, and mine’s near-hand ower. Hows’ever, I hope it’ll be Maniwel, and not yon lad ’at’ll see me put away.”
“If you’ve to wait, Ambrose, while Inman puts you away,” said Swithin when the old man’s monody had ended, “you’ll have a few years to live yet; and I should say my-sen ’at Mawm’s finished wi’ him. And good riddance to bad rubbish, says I, though I’m sorry for Nancy, poor lass!”
There were others who at that moment were thinking of Nancy. Maniwel and his family were taking counsel together, and even the father’s brow was troubled.