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They make him either a mere hero of romance the 'creation of some poetical mind; or else, led by a similarity of names, they discover in him merely one of the embodiments of popular superstitions a sylvan sprite, a Robin Goodfellow, or a Hudkin.
Sure enough, the sight of the dead body on the hurdle shook Miss Belcher's nerve not at all, or, at any rate, not discernibly. "Humph!" she said. "Take him to the pavilion and cover him decently. You'll find a yard or two of clean awning in the left-hand corner of the scoring-box." She eyed Mr. Goodfellow for a couple of seconds and swung round upon Mr. Rogers. "Is that the man you've arrested?"
As if the sun should stop when he had kindled his fires up to the splendor of a moon or a star of the sixth magnitude, and go about like a Robin Goodfellow, peeping in at every cottage window, inspiring lunatics, and tainting meats, and making darkness visible, instead of steadily increasing his genial heat and beneficence till he is of such brightness that no mortal can look him in the face, and then, and in the meanwhile too, going about the world in his own orbit, doing it good, or rather, as a truer philosophy has discovered, the world going about him getting good.
You come along with me, Harry; that is, if you have the key in your pocket." "I have, sir." "Right! Then come along with me, and you'll be out of harm's way." So, while Mr. Goodfellow carried the cupboard into the house, Mr. Rogers and I attended to the filly. This took, maybe, twenty minutes; but Mr. Rogers was a sportsman, and thought of his horse before himself.
All this is precisely the conduct of Robin Goodfellow, described so charmingly by Milton: "Tells how the drudging goblin sweat To earn his cream-bowl duly get, When in one night, ere glimpse of morn, His shadowy flail had thresh'd the corn That ten day-labourers could not end; Then lays him down the lubber-fiend, And, stretch'd out all the chimney's length, Basks at the fire his hairy strength, And crop-full, out of door he flings Ere the first cock his matin rings."
Goodfellow who worked the hand-lead, under Captain Branscome's orders, from a perch just forward of the main rigging; but at a mile's distance we carried deep water with us past Crabtree Point, and around the unnamed small cape which formed the south-western extremity of the island. Here the water shoaled, though for the first mile almost imperceptibly.
It was but four miles to Tweedshaws, yet before they had struggled through half the distance the horses had come to a standstill, utterly blown and exhausted; nothing could get them to stir forward, or longer to face the drift. Marchbanks suggested that now at length they might reasonably turn and fight their way back. Goodfellow hesitated. "What say ye, Jamie?" he asked of MacGeorge.
But Gauzita " "Are you quite sure she is dead?" asked Fairyfoot. "Sure!" cried Mr. Goodfellow, in wild indignation, "why, she hasn't seen me for a couple of years. I've moulted twice since last we met. I congratulate myself that she didn't see me then," he added, in a lower voice. "Of course she's dead," he added, with solemn emphasis; "as dead as a door nail."
Now I had heard a little before from an English traveller, that the name of my goblin in his language meant foolish, and that in England such a creature was called Puck, or Robin Goodfellow; and when in the openness of my heart I told all this to my little guest, and at the same time, because he had just frightened me again, wanted to hang a bell about his neck, that I might always hear him when he was coming, the urchin became angry and furious beyond all measure, prophesied that I should lose my eye about this time, and vanisht with a great rumbling.
Goodfellow was keeping watch. They say that a sailor will recognize a boat half a mile further off than he'll recognize the man in it, but Goodfellow isn't a sailor, so that explanation won't fit. We'll say that he was prepared for the boat returning, but not to find an entire stranger pulling her.
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