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III. The Custom of the Country

           

           “AndsocanI!”saidGrandferCantle.

           “No,no,youcan’t,mysonnies.Thatfireisnotmuchlessthanamileoff,forallthat’aseemssonear.”

           “’Tisintheheath,butnofurze,”saidtheturf-cutter.

           “’Tiscleft-wood,that’swhat’tis,”saidTimothyFairway.“Nothingwouldburnlikethatexceptcleantimber.And’tisontheknapaforetheoldcaptain’shouseatMistover.Suchaqueermortalasthatmanis!Tohavealittlefireinsideyourownbankandditch,thatnobodyelsemayenjoyitorcomeanighit!Andwhatazanyanoldchapmustbe,tolightabonfirewhenthere’snoyoungsterstoplease.”

           “Cap’nVyehasbeenforalongwalktoday,andisquitetiredout,”saidGrandferCantle,“so’tisn’tlikelytobehe.”

           “Andhewouldhardlyaffordgoodfuellikethat,”saidthewidewoman.

           “Thenitmustbehisgranddaughter,”saidFairway.“Notthatabodyofheragecanwantafiremuch.”

           “Sheisverystrangeinherways,livinguptherebyherself,andsuchthingspleaseher,”saidSusan.

           “She’sawell-favouredmaidenough,”saidHumphreythefurze-cutter,“especiallywhenshe’sgotoneofherdandygownson.”

           “That’strue,”saidFairway.“Well,letherbonfireburnan’twill.Oursiswell-nighoutbythelooko’t.”

           “Howdark’tisnowthefire’sgonedown!”saidChristianCantle,lookingbehindhimwithhishareeyes.“Don’tyethinkwe’dbettergethome-along,neighbours?Thehethisn’thaunted,Iknow;butwe’dbettergethome....Ah,whatwasthat?”

           “Onlythewind,”saidtheturf-cutter.

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