"Do you think old Job at the gate has lost either his tongue
or his nasty temper?"
"Leave Job to me," the father replied.
When they got to Paddock's Gate the old man had again to be roused,
and he came out grumbling.
"Well, you discontented old sinner!" Rosewarne called to him, "don't
you like having to earn a living?"
"A fine livin' to wait on folks that don't knaw their own mind, and
keep comin' and goin' along the road o' nights like a weaver's
shuttle. Hm!"
"Well, Job, you sha'n't suffer for it this time," Rosewarne said.
"I've won my bet. If you made fifty pounds by riding a few miles out,
what would you give the gatekeeper?"
Even that suggestion failed to inveigle Job into a better humor.
"Here's a sovereign for you, Job. Now go to bed. Good-night!"
How long the distance seemed to be ere they saw the lights of
Eglosilyan again! There were only one or two small points of red fire,
indeed, where the inn stood. The rest of the village was buried in
darkness.
"Oh, what will mother say?" Wenna said in a low voice to her sister.
"She will be very sorry we did not get away altogether," Mabyn
answered.
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