He had now dropped from the violence of his ecstasy into a dream-like state in which he was borne swaying on a vague, interminable road that overhung, giddily, the bottomless pit and was flanked by hills that loomed and reeled, that oppressed him with their horrible immensity.

He passed the bridge, the church, the Vicarage, the schoolhouse with its beckoning tree, and by the mercy of heaven he was unaware of them.

At the turn of the road, On Upthorne hill, the mare, utterly sobered by the gradient, bowed her head and went with slow, wise feet, taking care of the trap and of her master.

As for Greatorex, he had ceased to struggle.  And at the door of his house his servant Maggie received him in her arms.

* * * * *

He stayed in bed the whole of the next day, bearing his sickness, while Maggie waited on him.  And in the evening when he lay under her hand, weak, but clear-headed, she delivered herself of what was in her mind.

“Wall—­yo may thank Gawd yo’re laayin’ saafe in yore bed, Jim Greatorex.  It’d sarve yo right ef Daaisy ’d lat yo coom hoam oopside down wi yore ‘ead draggin’ in t’ road.  Soom daay yo’ll bae laayin’ there with yore nack brawken.

“Ay, yo may well scootle oonder t’ sheets, though there’s nawbody but mae t’ look at yo.  Yo’d navver tooch anoother drap o’ thot felthy stoof, Jimmy, ef yo could sea yoreself what a sight yo bae.  Naw woonder Assy Gaale wouldn’t ‘ave yo, for all yo’ve laft her wi’ t’ lil baaby.”

“Who toald yo she wouldn’t ’ave mae?”

“Naybody toald mae.  But I knaw.  I knaw.  I wouldn’t ’ave yo myself ef yo aassked mae.  I want naw droonkards to marry mae.”

Greatorex became pensive.

“Yo’d bae freetened o’ mae, Maaggie?” he asked.

And Maggie, seeing her advantage, drove it home.

“There’s more than mae and Assy thot’s freetened t’ marry yo,” she said.

He darkened.  “Yo ‘oald yore tongue.  Yo dawn’t knaw what yo’re saayin’, my laass.”

“Dawn’t I?  There’s more than mae thot knaws, Mr. Greatorex.  Assy isn’t t’ awnly woon yo’ve maade talk o’ t’ plaace.”

“What do yo mane?  Speaak oop.  What d’yo mane——­Yo knaw?”

“Yo’d best aassk Naddy.  He med tall ye ’oo was with yo laasst Soonda oop t’ feald in t’ girt byre.”

“Naddy couldn’t sae ’oo ’t was.  Med a been Assy.  Med a been yo.”

“‘T wasn’ mae, Mr. Greatorex, an’ ‘t was n’ Assy.  Look yo ’ere.  I tall yo Assy’s freetened o’ yo.”

“’Oo says she’s freetened?”

“I saays it.  She’s thot freetened thot she’d wash yore sweet’eart’s dirty cleathes sooner ’n marry yo.”

“She doesn’t wash them?”

“Shea does.  T’ kape yore baaby, Jim Greatorex.”

With that she left him.

* * * * *

For the next three months Greatorex was more than ever uneasy in his soul.  The Sunday after Maggie’s outburst he had sat all morning and afternoon in his parlor with his father’s Bible.  He had not even tried to see Alice Cartaret.