I'd go after them, only that
Peckaby's on the watch. I never see such a altered man as Peckaby; it
had used to be as I could just turn him round my little finger, but he
won't be turned now."
She finished up with a storm of sobs. Jan, in an Ecstasy of mirth yet,
offered to send her some cordials from the surgery, by way of
consolation; not, however, the precise one suggested by Peckaby. But
cordials had no charm in that unhappy moment for Mrs. Peckaby's ear.
Jan departed. In quitting the door he encountered a stranger, who
inquired if that was Peckaby's shop. Jan fancied the man looked
something the cut of Brother Jarrum, and sent him in. His coat and boots
were white with dust. Looking round on the assembled women when he
reached the kitchen, the stranger asked which was Mrs. Peckaby. Mrs.
Peckaby looked up, and signified that she was.
"I have a message from the saint and elder, Brother Jarrum," he
mysteriously whispered in her ear. "It must be give to you in private."
Mrs. Peckaby, in a tremble of delight, led the stranger to a small shed
in the yard, which she used for washing purposes, and called the back
'us.
Pages:
527
528
529
530
531
532
533
534
535
536
537
538
539
540
541
542
543
544
545
546
547
548
549
550
551