"Jack's not a cross-grained old fool, whatever else he may be," answered the innkeeper. "I convinced him in exactly two minutes that my nephew couldn't have been responsible for what he did. And everybody but a sour and bitter man, like you, must have known it. Poor Mark is thrown over by a girl--not to blame her, either, for she had to be true to herself. But still he won't believe that she's not for him, though she's put it plain as you please in writing; and he goes on hoping and dreaming and building castles in the air. Always dreamy and queer at all times he was--remember that. Then comes the crashing news for him that all is over and the maiden has taken another man. Wasn't it enough to upset such a frail, fanciful creature? Enough, and more than enough. He hides his trouble and his brain fails and his heart breaks--all unseen by any eye. And then what happens? He rings his own passing-bell! Was that the work of a sane man? Poor chap--poor chap! And you'd deny him Christian burial and cast him here, like a dog, with the poor unnamed children down under. I blush for you. See to his mother's grave and try and be larger-hearted. 'Tis only charity to suppose the bitter cold weather be curdling your blood. Now I'm off to my brother Humphrey, to tell him what there is to tell." Then Mr. Nathan buttoned up his coat and turned to the grinning labourer. "Don't laugh at him," he said. "Be sorry for him. 'Tis no laughing matter. Fill up that hole and take down yonder slate at the far end of the Baskerville row, and put everything in order. Our graves be all brick." He departed and Mr. Gollop walked off to the vicarage. A difficult task awaited Nathan, but he courted it in hope of future advantage. He was terribly concerned for his brother and now designed to visit him. As yet Humphrey had seen nobody. Vivian had called at Hawk House the day after Mark's death, but Mrs. Hacker had told him that her master was out. On inquiries as to his state, she had merely replied that he was not ill. He had directed that his son's body should remain at the church, and he had not visited Shaugh again or seen the dead since the night that Mark perished. Now Nathan, secretly hoping that some better understanding between him and Humphrey might arise from this shattering grief, and himself suffering more than any man knew from the shock of it, hastened to visit his bereaved brother and acquaint him with the circumstances of the inquest. Humphrey Baskerville was from home and Nathan, knowing his familiar haunt, proceeded to it. But first he asked Mrs. Hacker how her master fared. The woman's eyes were stained with tears and her nerves unstrung.