, betimes, Bellew got him to bed, and,
though the hour was ridiculously early, yet he fell into a profound
slumber, and dreamed of--nothing at all. But, far away upon the road,
forgotten, and out of mind,--with futile writhing and grimaces, the
Haunting Shadow of the Might Have Been jibbered in the shadows.

CHAPTER VII

_Which concerns itself among other matters, with "the Old Adam"_

Bellew awakened early next morning, which was an unusual thing for
Bellew to do under ordinary circumstances since he was one who held with
that poet who has written, somewhere or other, something to the
following effect:

"God bless the man who first discovered sleep. But damn the man with
curses loud, and deep, who first invented--early rising."

Nevertheless, Bellew, (as has been said), awoke early next morning, to
find the sun pouring in at his window, and making a glory all about him.
But it was not this that had roused him, he thought as he lay blinking
drowsily,--nor the black-bird piping so wonderfully in the apple-tree
outside,--a very inquisitive apple-tree that had writhed, and contorted
itself most un-naturally in its efforts to peep in at the
window;--therefore Bellew fell to wondering, sleepily enough, what it
could have been. Presently it came again, the sound,--a very peculiar
sound the like of which Bellew had never heard before, which, as he
listened, gradually evolved itself into a kind of monotonous chant,
intoned by a voice deep, and harsh, yet withal, not unmusical. Now the
words of the chant were these:

"When I am dead, diddle, diddle, as well may hap,
Bury me deep, diddle, diddle, under the tap,
Under the tap, diddle, diddle, I'll tell you why,
That I may drink, diddle, diddle, when I am dry."

Hereupon, Bellew rose, and crossing to the open casement leaned out into
the golden freshness of the morning. Looking about he presently espied
the singer,--one who carried two pails suspended from a yoke upon his
shoulders,--a very square man; that is to say, square of shoulder,
square of head, and square of jaw, being, in fact, none other than the
Waggoner with whom he had fought, and ridden on the previous afternoon;
seeing which, Bellew hailed him in cheery greeting. The man glanced up,
and, breaking off his song in the middle of a note, stood gazing at
Bellew, open-mouthed.

"What,--be that you, sir?" he enquired, at last, and then,--"Lord! an'
what be you a doing of up theer?"

"Why, sleepin