“Aye, lad,” he began at last, “I’ve bin to heaven sin I last saw thee, an’ heaven’s more like Leeds nor I thowt for.”

“Like Leeds!” I exclaimed, and, as Job seemed in a jesting mood, I decided to humour him.  “I fancy it must have been the other place you got to.  To think of you not being able to tell heaven from hell.”

“Nay, ’twere heaven, reight enif,” he continued, undisturbed.  “I could tell it by t’ glint i’ t’ een o’ t’ lads an’ lasses.”

I could see that Job had a story to tell of more than ordinary interest.  His changed appearance and buoyant manner showed clearly that something had happened to him which had dispelled the pall of gloom which had settled on him since Abe Verity’s death.  I was determined to hear the story in full.

“Now then, Job,” I said, “let us get to business.  Take that pipe out of your mouth and tell me what you have been doing at Bridlington.”

Job laid down his clay pipe, cleared his throat, and polished his face till it shone, with a large red handkerchief, and began his story.

“Well, you see, t’ missus an’ me got to Bridlington Friday afore Bank Holiday, an’ next mornin’ I went down to t’ shore for my swim same as I’d allus done afore.  ‘Twere a breet mornin’, an t’ chalk cliffs o’ Flamborough were glistenin’ i’ t’ sun-leet.  T’ fishin’ boats were out at sea, an’ t’ air were fair wick wi’ kittiwakes an’ herrin’ gulls.  So I just undressed misen, walked down to t’ watter an’ started swimmin’.  Eh! but t’ sea were bonny an’ warm, an’ for once I got all yon dowly thowts o’ death clean out o’ my head.  So I just struck out for t’ buoy that were anchored out at sea, happen hafe a mile frae t’ shore.  That had allus bin my swim sin first we took to comin’ to Bridlington, and I’d niver had no trouble i’ swimmin’ theer an’ back.  I got to t’ buoy all reight an’ rested misen a bit an’ looked round.  Gow! but ’twere a grand seet.  I could see t’ leet-house at Spurn, and reight i’ front o’ me were Bridlington wi’ t’ Priory Church and up beyond were fields an’ fields of corn wi’ farm-houses set amang t’ plane-trees an’ t’ sun-leet glistenin’ on their riggins.  Efter a while I started to swim back.  But it were noan so easy.  Tide were agean me an’ there were a freshish breeze off t’ land.  Howiver, I’d no call to hurry misen, so when I got a bit tired I lay on my back, an’ floated an’ looked up at t’ gulls aboon my head.  But then I fan’ out ‘twere no use floatin’; t’ tide were driftin’ me out to sea.  So I got agate o’ swimmin’ an’ kept at it for wellnigh ten minutes.  But t’ shore were a lang way off, an’ then, sudden-like, I began to think o’ Abe Verity, an’ t’ fear o’ death got howd on me an’ clutched me same as if I’d bin taen wi’ cramp.  There were lads fishin’ frae boats noan so far off, an’ I hollaed to ’em; but they niver heerd.  I tewed an’ better tewed, but I got no forrarder; an’ then I knew I were boun’ to drown.”

As Job got to this point in his story something of the old terror crept into his eyes, and I did my best to cheer him.