DOI Seite / Zitierlink:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.22217#0298
286
A MURDERER'S MISTAKE.
said—" It doesn't matter whether you say yes or no, or whether
I sit down or move on, or drop dead by the way. The end is
not far off either way."
" Oh, ay, sit as lang as ye like; ye're welcome," said the
toll-keeper, heartily. "You look like you had come a far
way ? "
" I have, sir—a matter of four hundred miles," said the
white-haired tramp, knitting his brows; then recovering him-
self, he said in his former quiet tones, " I suppose you couldn't
let me have a penn'orth of tobacco ? I've on'y a penny left."
" Hout, ay;" and the toll-keeper brought a liberal length of
roll tobacco, which the weary traveller grasped eagerly and
paid for promptly with his penny. He bit off a piece and
chewed it fiercely, his eye resting steadily the while on the
face of one of the toll-keeper's children, a rosy-cheeked girl of
seven or eight, who was gazing on the gaunt face and figure in
a species of awe.
"It's good for killing hunger," he observed, with his eye
still meditatively fixed upon the child ; " not that I've felt
much of it," he hastily added, as if in fear that the toll-keeper
would think that he meant to beg; "I haven't had time to
think of that. That's a pretty child," he abruptly added,
alluding to the girl.
"Yes, but she's not looking so well as she did," answered
the toll-keeper, with a father's pleased look at the compliment.
" We nearly lost her with fever a while ago."
" Imphm !" grimly returned the white-haired tramp. " Mebbe
some day you'll wish she had been taken. She'll grow up to
a fine lass, and then some one will envy you of your bonny
flower and crush it up in his fingers, never thinking or caring
to think that your heart's inside of it. You'll go mad, then,
and think how happy you could have been smoothing the turf
on her grave when she was a little child."
' "God forbid !'" fervently exclaimed the toll-keeper, catching
the child up in his arms, as if to shield her there.
"God? What's God got to do with it, I'd like to know?"
cried the white-haired tramp, with his hard tones rising to a
despairing snarl. "Is there any God? I never see him,
though there's plenty of devil about—that everybody can see
with their eyes shut. Look you, sir!" he added, clenching
one bony hand and smiting the palm of the other in fearful
excitement, " I've done with God for ever! When my girl
was like that little one I used to go to church o' Sundays, and
A MURDERER'S MISTAKE.
said—" It doesn't matter whether you say yes or no, or whether
I sit down or move on, or drop dead by the way. The end is
not far off either way."
" Oh, ay, sit as lang as ye like; ye're welcome," said the
toll-keeper, heartily. "You look like you had come a far
way ? "
" I have, sir—a matter of four hundred miles," said the
white-haired tramp, knitting his brows; then recovering him-
self, he said in his former quiet tones, " I suppose you couldn't
let me have a penn'orth of tobacco ? I've on'y a penny left."
" Hout, ay;" and the toll-keeper brought a liberal length of
roll tobacco, which the weary traveller grasped eagerly and
paid for promptly with his penny. He bit off a piece and
chewed it fiercely, his eye resting steadily the while on the
face of one of the toll-keeper's children, a rosy-cheeked girl of
seven or eight, who was gazing on the gaunt face and figure in
a species of awe.
"It's good for killing hunger," he observed, with his eye
still meditatively fixed upon the child ; " not that I've felt
much of it," he hastily added, as if in fear that the toll-keeper
would think that he meant to beg; "I haven't had time to
think of that. That's a pretty child," he abruptly added,
alluding to the girl.
"Yes, but she's not looking so well as she did," answered
the toll-keeper, with a father's pleased look at the compliment.
" We nearly lost her with fever a while ago."
" Imphm !" grimly returned the white-haired tramp. " Mebbe
some day you'll wish she had been taken. She'll grow up to
a fine lass, and then some one will envy you of your bonny
flower and crush it up in his fingers, never thinking or caring
to think that your heart's inside of it. You'll go mad, then,
and think how happy you could have been smoothing the turf
on her grave when she was a little child."
' "God forbid !'" fervently exclaimed the toll-keeper, catching
the child up in his arms, as if to shield her there.
"God? What's God got to do with it, I'd like to know?"
cried the white-haired tramp, with his hard tones rising to a
despairing snarl. "Is there any God? I never see him,
though there's plenty of devil about—that everybody can see
with their eyes shut. Look you, sir!" he added, clenching
one bony hand and smiting the palm of the other in fearful
excitement, " I've done with God for ever! When my girl
was like that little one I used to go to church o' Sundays, and