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Updated: May 1, 2025
But Joltram remained where he was, standing erect, and surveying the scene like a heavily caparisoned charger scenting battle. "Tha's heerd Mizter Dubble's tale afore now, Pazon, hazn't tha?" he inquired. "M'appen tha knaw'd the little chap as Christ's man zent to prizon thysen?" Arbroath lifted his head haughtily.
"I wish I knew that man's real history!" she mused, as he at last disappeared from her sight. "The folks about here, such as Mr. Joltram, for instance, say he was never born to the gypsy life, he speaks too well, and knows too much. Yet he's wild enough and yes! I'm afraid he's bad enough sometimes to be anything!"
"I was not aware of your presence, Mr. Joltram," he said stiffly. "Noa, noa, Pazon, m'appen not, but tha's aweer on it now. Nowt o' me's zo zmall as can thraw to heaven through tha straight and narrer way. I'd 'ave to squeeze for 't!" He laughed, a big, slow laugh, husky with good living and good humour. Arbroath shrugged his shoulders. "I prefer not to speak to you at all, Mr. Joltram," he said.
The sum of Five Hundred Pounds was to be paid to Miss Tranter, hostess of "The Trusty Man," "for her kindness to me on the one night I passed under her hospitable roof," and sums of Two Hundred Pounds each were left to "Matthew Peke, Herb Gatherer," and Farmer Joltram, both these personages to be found through the aforesaid Miss Tranter.
"All right, you must do as you like, I suppose," and Miss Tranter sniffed whole volumes of meaning in one sniff "But Farmer Joltram told me to say that if you wanted a light job up on his place, that's about a mile from here, he wouldn't mind giving you a chance. You'd get good victuals there, for he feeds his men well.
"When people are bound to disagree, as we have disagreed for years, it is best to avoid conversation." "Zed like the Church all over, Pazon!" chuckled the imperturbable Joltram. "Zeems as if I 'erd the 'Glory be'! But if tha don't want any talk, why does tha coom in 'ere wheer we'se all a-drinkin' steady and talkin' 'arty, an' no quarrellin' nor backbitin' of our neighbours?
"There's one too many 'ere for pleasantness, an' I'm goin'. Good-den, Tom! Good-den, all!" And out he strode, whistling as he went. With his departure every one began to move, the more quickly as the clock in the bar had struck ten a minute or two since. The Reverend Mr. Arbroath stood irresolute for a moment, wishing his chief enemy, "Feathery" Joltram, would go.
Here "Feathery" Joltram looked up and dumbly pointed with the stem of his pipe to a chair left vacant near the middle of the table.
"Zo agein' quick as that!" commented Joltram with a broad grin. "For zure 'e be a man grow'd! Tha'll be puttin' the breechez on 'im an' zendin' 'im to the school " "Never!" interrupted Tom defiantly. "They'll never catch my kiddie if I know it! I want him for myself, others shall have no part in him.
"They were nowt o' the Lord's opinions," said Joltram, "for He told the thief as 'ung beside Him, 'This day shalt thou be with Me in Paradise, but He didn't say nowt o' the man as got the thief punished!" "You twist the Bible to suit your own ends, Mr. Joltram," retorted Arbroath contemptuously. "It is the common habit of atheists and blasphemers generally."
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