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D
’
ye
think
I
’
d
turn
after
that
?
No
,
I
’
ll
stick
to
my
side
;
and
if
we
be
in
the
wrong
,
so
be
it
:
I
’
ll
fall
with
the
fallen
!
"
"
Well
said
—
very
well
said
,
"
observed
Joseph
.
—
"
However
,
folks
,
I
must
be
moving
now
:
upon
my
life
I
must
.
Pa
’
son
Thirdly
will
be
waiting
at
the
church
gates
,
and
there
’
s
the
woman
a
-
biding
outside
in
the
waggon
.
"
"
Joseph
Poorgrass
,
don
’
t
be
so
miserable
!
Pa
’
son
Thirdly
won
’
t
mind
.
He
’
s
a
generous
man
;
he
’
s
found
me
in
tracts
for
years
,
and
I
’
ve
consumed
a
good
many
in
the
course
of
a
long
and
shady
life
;
but
he
’
s
never
been
the
man
to
cry
out
at
the
expense
.
Sit
down
.
"
The
longer
Joseph
Poorgrass
remained
,
the
less
his
spirit
was
troubled
by
the
duties
which
devolved
upon
him
this
afternoon
.
The
minutes
glided
by
uncounted
,
until
the
evening
shades
began
perceptibly
to
deepen
,
and
the
eyes
of
the
three
were
but
sparkling
points
on
the
surface
of
darkness
.
Coggan
’
s
repeater
struck
six
from
his
pocket
in
the
usual
still
small
tones
.
At
that
moment
hasty
steps
were
heard
in
the
entry
,
and
the
door
opened
to
admit
the
figure
of
Gabriel
Oak
,
followed
by
the
maid
of
the
inn
bearing
a
candle
.
He
stared
sternly
at
the
one
lengthy
and
two
round
faces
of
the
sitters
,
which
confronted
him
with
the
expressions
of
a
fiddle
and
a
couple
of
warming
-
pans
.
Joseph
Poorgrass
blinked
,
and
shrank
several
inches
into
the
background
.
"
Upon
my
soul
,
I
’
m
ashamed
of
you
;
’
tis
disgraceful
,
Joseph
,
disgraceful
!
"
said
Gabriel
,
indignantly
.
"
Coggan
,
you
call
yourself
a
man
,
and
don
’
t
know
better
than
this
.
"
Coggan
looked
up
indefinitely
at
Oak
,
one
or
other
of
his
eyes
occasionally
opening
and
closing
of
its
own
accord
,
as
if
it
were
not
a
member
,
but
a
dozy
individual
with
a
distinct
personality
.
"
Don
’
t
take
on
so
,
shepherd
!
"
said
Mark
Clark
,
looking
reproachfully
at
the
candle
,
which
appeared
to
possess
special
features
of
interest
for
his
eyes
.
"
Nobody
can
hurt
a
dead
woman
,
"
at
length
said
Coggan
,
with
the
precision
of
a
machine
.
"
All
that
could
be
done
for
her
is
done
—
she
’
s
beyond
us
:
and
why
should
a
man
put
himself
in
a
tearing
hurry
for
lifeless
clay
that
can
neither
feel
nor
see
,
and
don
’
t
know
what
you
do
with
her
at
all
?
If
she
’
d
been
alive
,
I
would
have
been
the
first
to
help
her
.
If
she
now
wanted
victuals
and
drink
,
I
’
d
pay
for
it
,
money
down
.
But
she
’
s
dead
,
and
no
speed
of
ours
will
bring
her
to
life
.
The
woman
’
s
past
us
—
time
spent
upon
her
is
throwed
away
:
why
should
we
hurry
to
do
what
’
s
not
required
?
Drink
,
shepherd
,
and
be
friends
,
for
to
-
morrow
we
may
be
like
her
.
"
