"Oh! trust her for taking a mean advantage o' me, an' me laid o' mi back an' not able to stick up for missen. Take her a cruet o' water, doctor, an' say I'd be glad if she'd look into it an' turn it to vinegar. But yo'r taking nothing, doctor. Fill your glass, now do, and have another pipe. Never mind th' smoke. It's good for moths." And thus did Doctor Dean pass the time in those professional visits the portentous length of which gave so much anxiety to our friends. It was Soldier Jack who told me the news of poor John Booth's sad end. Soldier had been chary of coming at first for fear of arousing the suspicions of our neighbours, but he was very useful in spreading the news of my mother's illness. He had her one day on the brink of death, another day rallying. One day it was current through the village that my mother had sent for Lawyer Blackburn, and the undertaker went about with a visibly expectant face. When Mr. Webster called, all hope was abandoned. When he went away without being admitted to the sick chamber, tho' my mother had to bite her tongue to prevent herself calling out to him from the stairhead, our kinsfolk of all degrees began to look up their mourning, and the stone-cutter at Powle Moor got ready a selection of appropriate head-lines. At length Jack could keep away no longer and came one afternoon into my room, walking softly in on tip-toe of one foot and a limp of the other, as tho' I were dead or sleeping. Poor Jack, he looked sadly worn and harassed of these days and had lost all his swagger and even his cheerfulness. "Yes, it's too true, Ben. Poor John Booth's dead as a nit. Shot through th' leg, an' no stamina to bear it. He died th' same neet. "Tell me about it Soldier? Poor lad, poor lad." "He died at Tommy Sheard's at th' Star i' Roberdta'n. He wer' a good plucked 'un, an' his father a parson too. His mother mun ha' been a none such, aw reckon." "Who was with him Jack? Was he in much pain? Did he say owt? Tell me all about it." "Well, as far as aw can gather, after we carried yo' off t'others didn't stay long behind. Th' game wor up." "How did we come to leave Booth? We ought not to have left Booth. I promised I'd see to him, and a pretty way I've kept my word." "Dunnot yo' fash yersen, Ben. Yo'd your work set wi' Enoch. John brought it on hissen. He wer' all ovver th' shop', egging th' men on. Aw told him to keep i' covver, but he seemed fair to run agen th' bullets as if he wanted killing. Well he gate what he wanted. Still if we hadn't had our hands full wi yo', we might ha' carried him off. But he's dead, so we should nobbud ha' had our wark for nowt, an' a mort o' trouble to account for th' corpse. Yo' mebbe hannot thowt o' that. What should we ha' done wi' a dead body wi' a leg smashed to mush, on our hands?" Aye, what, I thought.