"Ye see, bein' by, I 'appened to pass the cottage--and very
pretty that looked too, and nice and neat inside!"
"Yes?" said I.
"And, bein' so near, I 'appened to glance in at the winder, and
there, sure enough, I see--'er--as you might say, Eve in the
gardin. And a fine figure of a Eve she be, and 'andsome wi' it
--'t ain't often as you see a maid the likes o' 'er, so proud
and 'aughty like."
"Well?"
"Well, just as I 'appened to look in at the winder, she 'appened
to be standin' wi' an open book in 'er 'and--a old, leather book
wi' a broken cover."
"Yes?" said I.
"And she was a-laughin'--and a pretty, soft, Eve's laugh it were,
too."
"Yes?" said I.
"And--'e were a-lookin' at the book-over 'er shoulder!" The
irons slipped from my grasp, and fell with a harsh clang.
"Ketches ye, does it?" said the Pedler. I did not speak, but,
meeting my eye, he scrambled hastily to his feet, and, catching
up his pack, retreated some little way down the road.
"Ketches ye, does it, my cove?" he repeated; "turn me away from
your door on a cold, dark night, would ye (not as I bears you any
ill-will for it, bein' of a forgivin' natur')? But I says to
you, I says--look out!--a fine 'andsome lass she be, wi' 'er soft
eyes and red lips, and long, white arms--the eyes and lips and
arms of a Eve; and Eve tricked Adam, didn't she?--and you ain't a
better man nor Adam, are ye?--very well then!" saying which, he
spat once more into the ditch, and, shouldering his pack, strode
away.
And, after some while, I took up my iron bars, and trudged on
towards the cottage. As I went, I repeated to myself, over and
over again, the word "Liar." Yet my step was very slow and heavy,
and my feet dragged in the dust; and, somewhere in my head, a
small hammer had begun to beat, soft and slow and regular, but
beating, beating upon my brain.
Now the upper cover of my Virgil book was broken!