I had scarcely done so, however, when there came a timid knock at the door, whereat I rose expectantly, and immediately sat down again. "Come in!" said I. The latch was slowly raised, the door swung open, and the Ancient appeared. If I was surprised to see him at such an hour, he was even more so, for, at sight of me, his mouth opened, and he stood staring speechlessly, leaning upon his stick. "Why, Ancient," said I, "you are early abroad this morning!" "Lord!" he exclaimed, scarcely above a whisper. "Come in and sit down," said I. "Lord! Lord!" he murmured, "an' a-satin' 'is breakfus' tu. Lordy, Lord!" "Yes," I nodded, "and, such as it is, you are heartily welcome to share it—sit down," and I drew up my other chair. "A-eatin' 'is breakfus' as ever was!" repeated the old man, without moving. "And why not, Ancient?" "Why not?" he repeated disdainfully. "'Cause breakfus' can't be ate by a corp', can it?" "A corpse, Ancient; what do you mean?" "I means as a corp' aren't got no right to eat a breakfus'—no!" "Why, I—no, certainly not." "Consequently, you aren't a corp', you'll be tellin me." "I?—no, not yet, God be thanked!" "Peter," said the Ancient, shaking his head, and mopping his brow with a corner of his neckerchief, "you du be forever a-givin' of me turns, that ye du." "Do I, Ancient?" "Ay—that ye du, an' me such a aged man tu—such a very aged man. I wonders at ye, Peter, an' me wi' my white 'airs—oh, I wonders at ye!" said he, sinking into the chair I had placed for him and regarding me with a stern, reproving eye. "If you will tell me what I have been guilty of—" I began. "I come down 'ere, Peter—so early as it be, tu—I come down 'ere to look for your corp', arter the storm an' what 'appened last night. I comes down 'ere, and what does I find?—I finds ye a-eatin' your breakfus'—just as if theer never 'adn't been no storm at all—no, nor nothin' else." "I'm sure," said I, pouring out a second cup of tea, "I'm sure I would sooner you should find my corpse than any one else, and am sorry to have disappointed you again, but really, Ancient—" "Oh, it aren't the disapp'intment, Peter—I found one corp', an' that's enough, I suppose, for an aged man like me—no, it aren't that—it's findin' ye eatin' your breakfus'—just as if theer 'ad 'adn't been no storm—no, nor yet no devil, wi' 'orns an' a tail, a-runnin' up an' down in the 'Oller 'ere, an' a-roarin' an' a-bellerin', as John Pringle said, last night." "Ah! and what else did John Pringle say?" I inquired, setting down my cup.