The ashes be later than th' oaks
this year. 'When th' oak before th' ash---'"
Ashurst said idly: "Where were you standing when you saw the gipsy
bogie, Jim?"
"It might be under that big apple tree, as you might say."
"And you really do think it was there?"
The lame man answered cautiously:
"I shouldn't like to say rightly that 't was there. 'Twas in my mind as
'twas there."
"What do you make of it?"
The lame man lowered his voice.
"They du zay old master, Mist' Narracombe come o' gipsy stock. But
that's tellin'. They'm a wonderful people, yu know, for claimin'
their own. Maybe they knu 'e was goin', and sent this feller along for
company. That's what I've a-thought about it."
"What was he like?"
"'E 'ad 'air all over 'is face, an' goin' like this, he was, zame as
if 'e 'ad a viddle. They zay there's no such thing as bogies, but I've
a-zeen the 'air on this dog standin' up of a dark naight, when I couldn'
zee nothin', meself."
"Was there a moon?"
"Yeas, very near full, but 'twas on'y just risen, gold-like be'ind them
trees."
"And you think a ghost means trouble, do you?"
The lame man pushed his hat up; his aspiring eyes looked at Ashurst more
earnestly than ever.
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