As he entered, and saw the familiar thin figure bending over the carpenter's bench, he felt excited and nervous. How should he begin? As a rule, he did not talk much during these visits, and that made it more difficult now. He took his usual seat on a chopping-block near, and Tuvvy, after giving him one rapid sidelong glance, continued his work without speaking. He was making a ladder, and just now was arranging a heap of smoothly-turned rungs in neat rows. Dennis thought he had a rather shamefaced air, like the dog Peter when he knew he had done wrong. It was of no use to wait for him to make a remark, so he said carelessly: "Is that going to be a long ladder?" "Pretty tol'rable, master," answered Tuvvy, his long lean fingers moving nimbly amongst the pieces of wood. "Shall you finish it in a week?" was Dennis's next question. Tuvvy's dark eyes flashed round at him for a second, but he only answered, "Pretty nigh." Dennis was silent for a little while. Then he gathered his courage for a great effort, for he felt that it was of no use to beat about the bush any longer. "Mr Tuvvy," he said, "I'm so sorry you're going away." "Thank ye, master," said Tuvvy; "so be I." "Why do you?" asked Dennis. "'Cause the gaffer sacked me," answered Tuvvy. "But," said Dennis, his courage rising, now that he had got into the thick of it, "he wouldn't want you to go if he could help it. You're a clever workman, aren't you?" "Folks say so," answered Tuvvy modestly. "Well," said Dennis, "I mean to ask him to let you stop. Only you must promise me first not to have any more bouts." Tuvvy was so taken by surprise, that he stopped working and turned his whole face round upon Dennis, who sat, an upright little figure, on the chopping-block, with a flushed and eager face. "Thank ye kindly, master," he said, after a moment's survey; "you mean well, but 'tain't no use." "Why not?" asked Dennis, in a resolute voice. "I couldn't keep that there promise," said Tuvvy, "not if I was to make it. There's times when I can't get past the Cross Keys; I'm drawed into it." "Why do you pass it, then?" asked Dennis. "I don't pass it, master, worse luck. I go in." "But I mean," said Dennis, getting still redder in the face with the effort to explain himself, "why do you go by the Cross Keys at all?" "Well, I have to," said Tuvvy, "twice in the day. Once of a morning and once of a evening. I live at Upwell, you see, master." Dennis had never known or cared where Tuvvy lived, and indeed it hardly seemed natural to think of him in any other place than at work in the barn. It was odd to think he had a home in Upwell. "Then," he said thoughtfully, "you have to walk more than two miles each way." "All that," said Tuvvy--"more like three."