he breeze and
sunshine entered freely; but the first visitant brought no spring
perfume on its wings, only an occasional sulphur-puff from the
soot-thick column of smoke rushing sable from the gaunt mill-chimney.

A dark-blue apparition (that of Joe Scott, fresh from a dyeing vat)
appeared momentarily at the open door, uttered the words "He's comed,
sir," and vanished.

Mr. Moore raised not his eyes from the paper. A large man,
broad-shouldered and massive-limbed, clad in fustian garments and gray
worsted stockings, entered, who was received with a nod, and desired to
take a seat, which he did, making the remark, as he removed his hat (a
very bad one), stowed it away under his chair, and wiped his forehead
with a spotted cotton handkerchief extracted from the hat-crown, that it
was "raight dahn warm for Febewerry." Mr. Moore assented--at least he
uttered some slight sound, which, though inarticulate, might pass for an
assent. The visitor now carefully deposited in the corner beside him an
official-looking staff which he bore in his hand; this done, he
whistled, probably by way of appearing at his ease.

"You have what is necessary, I suppose?" said Mr. Moore.

"Ay, ay! all's right."

He renewed his whistling, Mr. Moore his reading. The paper apparently
had become more interesting. Presently, however, he turned to his
cupboard, which was within reach of his long arm, opened it without
rising, took out a black bottle--the same he had produced for Malone's
benefit--a tumbler, and a jug, placed them on the table, and said to his
guest,--

"Help yourself; there's water in that jar in the corner."

"I dunnut knaw that there's mich need, for all a body is dry (thirsty)
in a morning," said the fustian gentleman, rising and doing as
requested.

"Will you tak naught yourseln, Mr. Moore?" he inquired, as with skilled
hand he mixed a portion, and having tested it by a deep draught, sank
back satisfied and bland in his seat. Moore, chary of words, replied by
a negative movement and murmur.

"Yah'd as good," continued his visitor; "it 'uld set ye up wald a sup o'
this stuff. Uncommon good hollands. Ye get it fro' furrin parts, I'se
think?"

"Ay!"

"Tak my advice and try a glass on't. Them lads 'at's coming 'll keep ye
talking, nob'dy knows how long. Ye'll need propping."

"Have you seen Mr. Sykes this morning?" inquired Moore.

"I seed him a hauf an hour--nay, happen a quarter of an hour sin', just
afore I set off.