A SUDDEN RESOLVE 261

hurting-place that nought doth ever come into any more
—excepting daddy, and—and thee. We shall miss thee,
Nick, at supper-times. Thou ’lt come back soon?”

“T am na coming back.”

“Not coming back?” She laid the mutton-pie down on
the bench.

“No—I am na coming back.”

“Never?”

“ Never.”

She looked at him as if she had not altogether under-
stood.

Nick turned away. A strange uneasiness had come
upon him, as if some one were staring at him fixedly.
But no one was. There was a Dutchman in the gate who
had not been there just before. “He must have sprung
up out of the ground,” thought Nick, “or else he is a very
sudden Dutchman!” He had on breeches like two great
meal-sacks, and a Flemish sea-cloth jacket full of wrinkles,
as if it had been lying in a chest. His back was turned,
and Nick could not help smiling, for the fellow’s shanks
came out of his breeches’ bottoms like the legs of a letter A.
He looked like a pudding on two skewers.

Cicely slowly took up the mutton-pie once more, but
did not eat. “Is na the pasty good?” asked Nick.

“Not now,” said she.

Nick turned away again.

The Dutchman was not in the gate. He had crossed
the inn-yard suddenly, and was sitting close within the
shadow of the wall, though the sunny side was pleasanter