The Ordeal of Richard Feverel

y civilized, we must remember. Thus, not to follow your leader whithersoever he may think proper to lead; to back out of an expedition because the end of it frowns dubious, and the present fruit of i

vere and searching, is the same. The leader can rely on the faithfulness of his host: the comrade is sworn to serve. Master Ripton Thompson was naturally loyal. The idea of turning off and forsaking his friend never once crossed his mind, though his condition was desperate, and his friend's behaviour that of a Bedlamite. He announced several ti

ss and tentless. They saluted with a nod, and began recounting for each other's benefit the daylong-doings of the weather, as it had affected their individual experience and followed their prophecies. Both had anticipated and foretold a bit of rain before night, and therefore both welcomed the wet with sa

tinker. "No curtain-lecturin' wit

. "Your pipe doan't mak' ye out w

oment, handing a grimy short clay. Speed-the-Plough fil

e y'are, primed! Bette

if ye wants for to, and wh

im up. "And ye doan't want for to. L

ehending him perfectly, "it do

-the-Plough cocked his eye-"it doan't eat

wledged; and having, so to speak, sealed up the subject by saying the best thing that co

s his missus, for an opinion or a confirmation; and he thought that a curious sight. Speed-the-Plough was stretched at full length, with his boots in the rai

renewed the colloquy.

on assented

re's the good o' moping? I sees it all come round right and tight. Now I tra

ted Speed-the-Pl

my trade. Not for coals it isn't. And I don't carry 'em there, neither. Anyhow, I comes back. London's my mar

?" the other

e-Plough lurched round on his elbow and regarded him indifferently. "D'ye call that doctrin'? He bean't al'ays, or I shoo'n't be scrapin' my heels wi' nothin' to do, and, what's warse, nothin' to eat. Why, look heer. Luck's luck, and bad luck's the con-trary.

his throat, and sai

tharpe afore I goes to Varmer Bollop. Varmer Blaize misses pilkins. He swears our chaps steals pilkins. 'Twarn't me steals 'em. What do he tak' and go and do? He tak

head, and said that

hinkin'. Varmer Bollop I don't owe no grudge to: Varmer Blaize I do. And I shud like to stick a Lucifer in his rick some dry windy night." Speed-the-Plough screwed up an eye villainously. "He wants hittin' in the

at would be taking the devil's side of a bad case. Speed-the-Plough observed e

theories of transmundane dominion and influence on mundane affairs. He now started to his feet, and came tearing through the briar hedge, calling out for one of them to direct them the nearest road to Bursley. The tinker was kindling preparations for hi

or that loaf, my good fellow,

" quoth the tink

by humping her

had just succeeded in freeing his limbs from the

and talk it out over a pot o' beer." Speed-the-Plough was nothing loath, and in a short time they were following the two