."

"Surely," I said, "you don't think that you are going to die because you
dreamed you saw your old father; if one dies because one dreams of one's
father, what happens to a man who dreams of his mother-in-law?"

"Ah, sir, you're laughing at me," said Job; "but, you see, you didn't
know my old father. If it had been anybody else--my Aunt Mary, for
instance, who never made much of a job--I should not have thought so
much of it; but my father was that idle, which he shouldn't have been
with seventeen children, that he would never have put himself out to
come here just to see the place. No, sir; I know that he meant business.
Well, sir, I can't help it; I suppose every man must go some time or
other, though it is a hard thing to die in a place like this, where
Christian burial isn't to be had for its weight in gold. I've tried
to be a good man, sir, and do my duty honest, and if it wasn't for the
supercilus kind of way in which father carried on last night--a sort
of sniffing at me as it were, as though he hadn't no opinion of my
references and testimonials--I should feel easy enough in my mind. Any
way, sir, I've been a good servant to you and Mr. Leo, bless him!--why,
it seems but the other day that I used to lead him about the streets
with a penny whip;--and if ever you get out of this place--which, as
father didn't allude to you, perhaps you may--I hope you will think
kindly of my whitened bones, and never have anything more to do with
Greek writing on flower-pots, sir, if I may make so bold as to say so."

"Come, come, Job," I said seriously, "this is all nonsense, you know.
You mustn't be silly enough to go getting such ideas into your head.
We've lived through some queer things, and I hope that we may go on
doing so."

"No, sir," answered Job, in a tone of conviction that jarred on me
unpleasantly, "it isn't nonsense. I'm a doomed man, and I feel it, and a
wonderful uncomfortable feeling it is, sir, for one can't help wondering
how it's going to come about. If you are eating your dinner you think
of poison and it goes against your stomach, and if you are walking along
these dark rabbit-burrows you think of knives, and Lord, don't you just
shiver about the back! I ain't particular, sir, provided it's sharp,
like that poor girl, who, now that she's gone, I am sorry to have spoke
hard on, though I don't approve of her morals in getting married, which
I consider too quick to be decent. Still, sir," and poor Job tur