The man did not look pleased at this, but he led the way to his place, fetched the blacking and brushes, and as he manipulated them he underwent a kind of cross-examination about the household affairs, answering the first question rather shortly, the rest with a fair amount of eagerness. For the visitor's hand had stolen into his pocket and come out again with half-a-crown, which he used to rasp the back of the old Windsor chair on which he rested his foot, and then, balancing it on one finger, he tapped it softly, making it give forth a pleasant jingling sound that was very grateful to the man's ear, for he brushed away most diligently, blacked, polished, breathed on the leather, and brushed again. "Keep as good hours as ever?" said Dasent, after several questions had been put. "Oh, yes, sir. Prayers at ha'-past nine, and if there's a light going anywhere with us after ten the governor's sure to see it and make a row. He's dreadful early, night and morning, too." "Yes, he is very early of a morning, I noticed. Well, it makes the days longer." "Well, sir, it do; but one has to be up pretty sharp to get his boots done and his hot water into his room by seven, for if it's five minutes past he's there before you, waiting, and looking as black as thunder. My predecessor got the sack, they say, for being quarter of an hour late two or three times, and it isn't easy to be ready in weather like this." "What, dark in the mornings?" "Oh, no, sir, I don't mean that. It's his boots. He gets them that clogged and soaked that I have to wash 'em overnight and put 'em to the kitchen fire, and if that goes out too soon it's an awful job to get 'em to shine. They don't have a hot pair of feet in 'em like these, sir. Your portmanteau coming on by the carrier?" "Oh, no, I go back to-night. And that reminds me--have they got a good dog-cart in the village?" "Dog-cart, sir?" said the man, with a laugh; "not here. The baker's got a donkey-cart, and there's plenty of farmers' carts. That's all there is near." "I thought so, but I've been here so little lately." "But you needn't mind about that, sir. Master's sure to order our trap to be round to take you to the station, and Tom Johnson'll be glad enough to drive you." "Oh, yes; of course; but I like to be independent. I daresay I shall walk back." "I wouldn't, sir, begging your pardon, for it's an awkward road in the dark. Tell you what, though, sir, if you did, there's the man at Barber's Corner, at the little pub, two miles on the road. He has a very good pony and trap. He does a bit of chicken higgling round the country. You mention my name, sir, and he'd be glad enough to drive you for a florin or half-a-crown." "Ah, well, we shall see," said Dasent, putting down his second leg. "Look a deal better for the touch-up. Get yourself a glass."