nevertheless, on the whole, he would have been as well contented without it. For a few moments there was a dead silence, Marner’s want of breath and agitation not allowing him to speak. The landlord, under the habitual sense that he was bound to keep his house open to all company, and confident in the protection of his unbroken neutrality, at last took on himself the task of adjuring the ghost. 

 “Master Marner,” he said, in a conciliatory tone, “what’s lacking to you? What’s your business here?” 

 “Robbed!” said Silas, gaspingly. “I’ve been robbed! I want the constable—and the Justice—and Squire Cass—and Mr. Crackenthorp.” 

 “Lay hold on him, Jem Rodney,” said the landlord, the idea of a ghost subsiding; “he’s off his head, I doubt. He’s wet through.” 

 Jem Rodney was the outermost man, and sat conveniently near Marner’s standing-place; but he declined to give his services. 

 “Come and lay hold on him yourself, Mr. Snell, if you’ve a mind,” said Jem, rather sullenly. “He’s been robbed, and murdered too, for what I know,” he added, in a muttering tone. 

 “Jem Rodney!” said Silas, turning and fixing his strange eyes on the suspected man. 

 “Aye, Master Marner, what do you want wi’ me?” said Jem, trembling a little, and seizing his drinking-can as a defensive weapon. 

 “If it was you stole my money,” said Silas, clasping his hands entreatingly, and raising his voice to a cry, “give it me back—and I won’t meddle with you. I won’t set the constable on you. Give it me back, and I’ll let you—I’ll let you have a guinea.” 

 “Me stole your money!” said Jem, angrily. “I’ll pitch this can at your eye if you talk o’ my stealing your money.” 

 “Come, come, Master Marner,” said the landlord, now rising resolutely, and seizing Marner by the shoulder, “if you’ve got any information to lay, speak it out sensible, and show as you’re in your right mind, if you expect anybody to listen to you. You’re as wet as a drownded rat. Sit down and dry yourself, and speak straight forrard.” 

 “Ah, to be sure, man,” said the farrier, who began to feel that he had not been quite on a par with himself and the occasion. “Let’s have no more staring and screaming, else we’ll have you strapped for a madman. That was why I didn’t speak at the first—thinks I, the man’s run mad.” 

 Prev. P 46/156 next