"I dare say you have, Abraham," she answered.
"I want something to eat and drink, I haven't bit nought since morning. There's nothing but ashes on the Ray now, and they are red-hot. You don't expect me to fill my belly on them."
Mehalah put her hand to her mouth and checked her tongue, as she was about to tell him to go indoors and get some supper. She had now nothing to give the old man. She lived on the bounty of Rebow.
"I cannot go without my wittles," persisted Abraham. "Now I want to know where my wittles are to come from. I paid fourpence at the Rose for some bread and cheese, and you owes me that."
"There is the money," said Mehalah, producing the coin.
"Ah! that is wery well. But where am I to get my wittles now? Am I your servant or ain't I? If I am,—where's my wittles?"
"Come here, Abraham," said Elijah, from the kitchen door. "There is bread and cold potatoes and meat here. You shall have your supper, and you can sleep in the loft."
"Look here, master," pursued the sullen old man, "I want to know further where I'm to look for my wages."
"To me," said Rebow. "I take you on."
"Where am I to work?"
"Here, or on the Ray, looking after the sheep."
"The sheep are not yours, they are hers,"—pointing to Mehalah with his thumb.
"The Ray and Red Hall are one concern," answered Rebow. "You look to me as your master, and to her as your mistress;" then he entered and slammed the door.
Abraham shrugged his shoulders. He leered at Mehalah, who had put her hands to her forehead.
"When are you going to church? Eh, mistress? I thought it was coming to this. But I don't care so long as I gets my wittles and wage."
Abraham went slowly into the cattlehouse with the cow. Mehalah remained rooted to the spot, pressing her brow.
This was more than she could endure. She ran up the steps, she would speak to Rebow while her heart was full. She dashed through the kitchen and into the hall. He was not there. As she ran on, she tripped and almost
