Stories told by the miller — John Stuart Mill — John Shaqi
Stories told by the miller
John Stuart Mill · en
She was sad for a long time after that. Dan said nothing of what he
knew, and when she tried to speak to him, he got out of her way. She did
not even tell Alfonso or the Cochin-Chinaman what had happened; though,
to be sure, it would have been safe enough, for, even if they had spoken
of it, no one but herself could have understood them. Once she saw the
rich gipsy with the evil face and silver rings prowling about the vans,
which made her so frightened that she got into one of them and locked
herself in. No one else had seen Rhoda when she came to say good-bye,
and there was nothing to do but to keep her own counsel and hope that in
time she might meet her friend again.
The Cochin-China cock was as happy as possible. He did not care for high
company, and the few fowls that ran about the van wheels and travelled
together in a basket on the roof when the family was moving were good
enough for him. He forgot that he had ever had a wife and family, though
he had wept so loudly when he left them to follow Maggie; and now he had
chosen for a partner a young speckled hen, who was bewitched by his
yellow trousers and deep voice.
Alfonso, on the contrary, had grown prouder than ever; and when he
discovered that the man with the gold earrings meant to make a deal of
money by backing him to fight other cocks in public, he was extremely
happy. He longed for spring to come, for then the vans were to make a
tour through many villages and towns, and he would have the chance of
meeting all sorts of champions in single combat. He had found this out
through the Cochin-Chinaman, who was a gossip, and whose new wife told
him everything that went on. But Maggie knew nothing about it, for
Alfonso would not tell her, and promised to thrash his friend if he did
so. Alfonso knew that if anything were to happen to himself it would
break her heart. Sometimes his conscience blamed him for deceiving her,
but he did not listen to it; it seemed to him that he heard the crowing
of whole crowds of upstart birds, and his spurs itched.
It had grown quite cold when the time came for them to leave the woods.
Dan and Maggie were to go off in the green van at sunrise, and the woman
with her husband and baby were to follow after midday. Dan knew the
place for their next camp, and he and his companion were to get
everything ready, and have fires lit and water carried by the time the
family arrived with its belongings and the cocks and hens.