JUDITH: Jim--O Jim!

BELL: Nay: he'll not dangle in a hempen noose.

JUDITH: And yet you saw his body ...

BELL: Dead men's knuckles!

You didn't swallow that gammon? Why should I Be sleeping under Winter's Stob? But Jim-- I doubt if he'd the guts to stick a porker: You needn't fear for him. But I must go.

JUDITH: Go? You'll not go without a sup of tea, After you've traiked so far? Michael and Ruth ...

BELL: Ay, Judith: I just caught a squint of them Among the cluther outside the circus-tent: But I was full-tilt on Jim's track, then: and so, I couldn't daunder: or I'd have stopped to have A closer look: yet I saw that each was carrying A little image of a Barrasford:

(_Looking into the cradle._)

And here's the reckling image, seemingly-- The sleeping spit of Michael at the age.

JUDITH: You never saw such laleeking lads: and they All fashion after their father.

BELL: I'm glad I came.

Even if I'd not struck Jim, I'd meant to come, And have a prowl round the old gaol, and see How Michael throve: although I hadn't ettled To cross the doorstone--just to come and go, And not a soul the wiser. But it turns out I was fated to get here in the nick of time: It seems the old witch drew me here once more To serve her turn and save the happy home.

I judged you'd lost your hold on me, Eliza: But, once a ghost has got a grip of you, It won't let go its clutch on your life until It's dragged you into the grave with it: even then ...

Although my ghost should prove a match for any, I'd fancy, with a fair field, and no favour.

But ghosts and graves! I'm down-in-the-mouth to-day: I must have supped off toadstools on a tombstone, Or happen the droppy weather makes me dyvous: I never could thole the mooth and muggy mizzle, Seeping me sodden: I'd liefer it teemed wholewater, A sousing, drooking downpour, any time.

I'm dowf and blunkit, why, deuce only kens!

It seems as if Eliza had me fey: And that old witch would be the death of me: And these white walls ... 'Twould be the queerest start!

But, Michael's happy?

JUDITH: He's the best of husbands-- The best of fathers: he ...

BELL: I ken, I ken.

Well ... He's got what he wanted, anyway.

JUDITH: And you?

BELL: Ay ... I was born to take my luck.

But I must go.

JUDITH: You'll not wait for them?

BELL: Nay: I'm dead to them: I've bid good-bye to them Till doomsday: and I'm through with Krindlesyke, This time, I hope--though you can never tell.

I hadn't ettled to darken the door again; Yet here I am: and even now the walls Seem closing ... It would be the queerest start If, after all ... But, dod, I've got the dismals, And no mistake! I'm in the dowie dumps-- Maundering and moonging like a spancelled cow: It's over dour and dearn for me in this loaning On a dowly day. Best pull myself together, And put my best foot foremost before darkening: And I've no mind to meet them in the road.

So long!

(_She goes out of the door and makes down the syke._)

JUDITH: Good-bye! If you'd only bide a while ...

Come back! You mustn't go like that ... Bell, Bell!

(_She breaks off, as BELL HAGGARD is already out of hearing, and stands watching her till she is out of sight; then turns, closing the door, and sinks into a chair in an abstracted fashion. She takes up her knitting mechanically, but sits, motionless, brooding by the fire._)

JUDITH: To think that Jim--and after all these years ...

And then, to come like that! I wonder what ...

I wish he hadn't gone without the boots.

(_She resumes her knitting, musing in silence, until she is roused by the click of the latch. The door opens, and BELL HAGGARD stumbles into the room and sinks to the floor in a heap. Her brow is bleeding, and her dress, torn and dishevelled._)

JUDITH (_starting up_): Bell! What has happened, woman? Are you hurt?

Oh, but your brow is bleeding!

BELL: I'd an inkling There must be blood somewhere: I seemed to smell it.

JUDITH: But what has happened, Bell? Don't say 'twas Jim!

BELL: Nay ... nay ... it wasn't Jim ... I stumbled, Judith: And, seemingly, I cracked my cruntle a bit-- It's Jill fell down, and cracked her crown, this journey.

I smelt the blood ... but, it's not there, the pain ...

It's in my side ... I must have dunched my side Against a stone in falling ... I could fancy A rib or so's gone smash.

JUDITH (_putting an arm about her and helping her to rise_): Come and lie down, And I'll see what ...

BELL: Nay: but I'll not lie down: I'm not that bad ... and, anyhow, I swore I'd not lie down again at Krindlesyke.

If I lay down, the walls would close on me, And scrunch the life out ... But I'm havering-- Craitching and craking like a doitered crone.

Lightheaded from the tumble ... mother-wit's Jirbled and jumbled ... I came such a flam.

I'm not that bad ... I say, I'll not lie down ...

Just let me rest a moment by the hearth, Until ...

(_JUDITH leads her to a chair, fetches a basin of water and some linen, and bathes the wound on BELL's brow._)

JUDITH: I wish ...

BELL: I'm better here. I'll soon Be fit again ... Bell isn't done for, yet: She's a tough customer--she's always been A banging, bobberous bletherskite, has Bell-- No fushenless, brashy, mim-mouthed mealy-face, Fratished and perished in the howl-o'-winter.

No wind has ever blown too etherish, Too snell to fire her blood: she's always relished A gorly, gousty, bl.u.s.terous day that sets Her body alow and birselling like a whinfire.

But what a windyhash! My wit's wool-gathering; And I'm waffling like a ... But I'd best be stepping, Before he comes: I've far to travel to-night: And I'm not so young ... And Michael mustn't find His tinker-mother, squatted by the hearth, Nursing a b.l.o.o.d.y head. But, mind you, Judith: I stumbled; and I hurt my side in falling: Whatever they may say, you stick to that: Swear that I told you that upon my oath-- So help me G.o.d, and all--my bible-oath.

I'm better ... already ... I fancy ... and I'll go Before ... What was I saying? Well, old hob, I little ettled I'd look on you again.

The times I've polished you, the elbow-grease I've wasted on you: but I never made You shine like that ... You're winking red eyes at me: And well you may, to see ... I little guessed You'd see me sitting ... I've watched many fires Since last I sat beside this hearth--good fires: Coal, c.o.ke, and peat, but wood-fires in the main.

There's naught like izles for dancing flames and singing: Birch kindles best, and has the liveliest flames: But elm just smoulders--it's the coffin-wood ...

Coffins? Who muttered coffins? Let's not talk Of coffins, Judith ... Shut in a black box!

They couldn't keep old Ezra in: the lid Flew off; and old granddaddy sat up, girning ...

They had to screw him down ... And Solomon Slept with his fathers ... I wonder he could sleep, After the razzle-dazzle ... Concubines!

'Twould take a pyramid to keep him down!

And me ... That tumble's cracked the bell ... not stopt The crazy clapper, seemingly ... But, coffins-- Let's talk no more of coffins: what have I To do with coffins? Let us talk of fires: I've always loved a fire: I'd set the world Alow for my delight, if it would burn.

It's such a soggy, sodden world to-day, I'm duberous I could kindle it with an izle: It might just smoulder with muckle funeral-plumes Of smoke, like coffin-elder ... And the blaze-- The biggest flare-up ever I set eyes on, It was a kind of funeral, you might say-- A fiery, flaming, roaring funeral, A funeral such as I ... but no such luck For me in this world--likely, in the next!

And anyway, it wouldn't be much fun, If I couldn't watch it, myself ... Ay, Long Nick Salkeld, And his old woman, Zillah, died together, The selfsame day, within an hour or so.

'Twas on Spadeadam Waste we'd camped that time ...

And kenning how they loved their caravan, And how they'd hate to leave it, or be parted From one another, even by a foot of earth, We laid them out, together, side by side, In the van, as they'd slept in it, night after night, For hard on fifty-year. We took naught out, And shifted naught: just burnished up the bra.s.ses, Till they twinkled as Zillah'd kept them, while she could ...

And so, with not a coffin-board betwixt them, At dead of night we fired the caravan ...

The flames leapt up; and roaring to the stars, As we stood round ... The flames leapt up, and roaring ...

I hear them roaring now ... the flames ... I hear ...

Flames roaring in my head ... I hear ... I hear ...

And flying izles ... falling sparks ... I hear Flames roaring ... roaring ... roaring ...