"Well, I laffed--I was forced to laff--but arter a while et grew a
bit too strong, an' I runned up to th' house to fetch down a few
folks to look. I warn't away 'bove ten minnits; but when I comed
back there warn't no rook to be seen, nor no eye nuther.
They'd a-carr'd et off to Squire Tresawsen's rookery, an' et's niver
been seen fro' that day to this."
There was silence for a few moments as Caleb finished his story and
lit another pipe. Finally Mr. Fogo roused him to ask--
"What became of your master, Caleb?"
"Dead, sir--dead," answered Caleb, staring into the embers of the
fire. "He lived to a powerful age, tho' albeit a bit totelin' [14]
in hes latter days. But for all that he mou't ha' been like
Tantra-bobus--lived till he died, or at least been a centurion--"
"A what?"
"Centurion, sir; otherwise a hundred years old. But he went round
land [15] at las', an' was foun' dead in hes bed--o' heart-break, they
did say, 'long o' his gran'-darter Joanna runnin' away wi' an army
cap'n."
"Ah!" said Mr. Fogo, pensively, "she was a woman, was she not?"
"To be sure, sir; what elst?--a female woman, an' so baptised."
There was a moment's silence; then Caleb resumed--
"But contrari-wise, sir, the army cap'n was a man."
"Ah! yes, of course; let us be just--the army captain was a man.
Pages:
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140