It was seven in the evening, and day closing in, before they took the road again. Billy had fallen into a boastful mood, and felt his heart so warm towards Cornish that nothing would do but they must tramp it together so far as Nancledrea, which was a goodish bit out of Cornish's road to Ludgvan. By the time they reached Nancledrea Billy was shedding tears and begging Cornish to come along to Ardevora. "I'll make a man of 'ee there," he promised: "I will sure 'nough!" But Cornish weighed the offer, and decided that his mother at Ludgvan would be going to bed before long. So coming to a house with red blinds and lights within they determined to have a drink before parting. In the tap-room they found a dozen fellows or so drinking their beer and smoking solemn, and an upstanding woman in a black gown attending on them. "Hullo!" says one of the men looking up, "What's this? Geezy-dancers?" [3] "I'll soon tell 'ee about Geezy-dancers," says Billy. "Here, Missus--a pot of ale all round, and let 'em drink to two Cornish boys home from festerin' in French war prisons, while they've a'been diggin' taties!" There was no resisting a sociable offer like this, and in two two's, as you might say, Billy was boasting ahead for all he was worth, and the company with their mouths open--all but the landlady, who was opening her eyes instead, and wider and wider. "There isn' none present that remembers me, I dare say. My name's Bosistow--Billy Bosistow--from Ardevora parish. And back there I'm going this very night, and why? you ask. I ben't one of your taty-diggin' slowheads--_I_ ben't. I've broke out of prison three times, and now--" He nodded at the company, whose faces by this time he couldn't very well pick out of a heap--"do any of 'ee know a maid there called Selina Johns? Because if so I warn 'ee of her. 'Why?' says you. Because that's the maid I'm goin' to marry, and I'm off to Ardevora to do it straight. Another pot of beer, please, missus." "You've had a plenty, sir, seemin' to me," answered up the landlady, while the company tittered. "And is this the way"--Billy stood up very dignified--"is this the way to welcome home a man who bled for his country? Is this your gratitude to a man who's spent ten o' the best years of his life in slavery while you've been diggin' taties?" I can't tell you why potatoes ran so much in the poor fellow's head; but they did, and he seemed to see the hoeing of them almost in the light of a personal injury. He spat on the floor. "And as for you, madam, these here boots of mine have tramped thousands of miles, and I shake off their dust upon you," he says.