“No, sir, leastwise, not this side the country,” said Andrew, walking up to him.
“No tedn that nither, sir. Et’s like thes—I was coming down-along round the foot of the Hootin’ Cairn, soon after midnight, when summat white crossed the ground afore me.”
“What was it?” said Sir Bevil with a smile, the eeriness of the place and the superstitious fear of the Earthstopper occurring to him.
“Lor’ bless your life, sir, ’twas touchin’, under my feet, so to spaake. ’Twas a darkish night, for all the moon was nearly full, but the thing showed up as white as a ghost, and the sight of un gov me a bra’ turn, the more so being where I were.”
“Is that all you have to say?—I see the hounds are moving off.”
“Only thes, sir; on second thoughts, I went back all of a quaake to see ef the thing left any track.”
“Well, did you find any?” said Sir Bevil, rather excitedly; till then he had not seen what the Earthstopper had been driving at.
“The track of a badger—of a heavy badger, the prent was that deep.”
“You believe then, Andrew, that you have seen a white badger, a white badger,” said the Squire, repeating the words deliberately and emphatically, as was his wont on the bench at crucial points of a witness’s evidence, and looking the while straight into the Earthstopper’s unflinching eyes.
“Iss, sir, I do; but aifter thet I wouldn’t care to tell anyone savin’ yoursel’.”
“Be at the Castle at nine o’clock to-morrow morning,” said Sir Bevil, somewhat peremptorily, and then galloped off after the hounds, leaving Andrew staring open-mouthed after him.
CHAPTER IX THE WHITE BADGER OF CAIRN KENIDZHEK—_Continued_ THE EARTHSTOPPER ANGRY
MOST of Andrew’s deep thinking was done in the wooden arm-chair by his own fireside. There he is seated, the evening after his interview with Sir Bevil by the cover, considering the plan of campaign against the badger. The only sound in the room is the click of his grandchild’s knitting-needles. Vennie lies curled up on the floor at his feet. The light of the lamp falls on the Earthstopper’s face, and betrays its absent expression. He is wandering in thought over the moors and hills around Kenidzhek, and wondering which of the many earths he knows of, is the white badger’s. By careful examination, he will find sooner or later a few white bristles on the walls of one of them, which will give him the necessary clue. Should this plan fail, he will propose watching the earths, and will request the Squire to let him do so alone, lest the secret should leak out. Harrowing will his vigils be in that weird district; but his fear of ridicule is greater than his fear of ghosts, and he would rather have his grey hairs blanched with fright than become the laughing-stock of the countryside.