This man offered me his friendship.  He made me sit and eat beside him at the afternoon dinner of the elevens, and sent platefuls of food to the girl, where she was allowed to squat; and said he, ’You and I’ll tie a knot, and be friends for life.’

I replied, ‘With pleasure.’

We nodded over a glass of ale.  In answer to his questions, I stated that I liked farms, I would come and see his farm, I would stay with him two or three days, I would give him my address if I had one, I was on my way to have a look at Riversley Grange.

‘Hey!’ says he, ’Riversley Grange!  Well, to be sure now!  I’m a tenant of Squire Beltham’s, and a right sort of landlord, too.’

‘Oh!’ says I, ‘he’s my grandfather, but I don’t care much about him.’

‘Lord!’ says he.  ’What! be you the little boy, why, Master Harry Richmond that was carried off in the night, and the old squire shut up doors for a fortnight, and made out you was gone in a hearse!  Why, I know all about you, you see.  And back you are, hurrah!  The squire ’ll be hearty, that he will.  We’ve noticed a change in him ever since you left.  Gout’s been at his leg, off and on, a deal shrewder.  But he rides to hounds, and dines his tenants still, that he does; he’s one o’ th’ old style.  Everything you eat and drink’s off his estate, the day he dines his tenants.  No humbug ’bout old Squire Beltham.

I asked him if Sewis was alive.

‘Why, old Sewis,’ says he, ’you’re acquainted with old Sewis?  Why, of course you are.  Yes, old Sewis ’s alive, Master Harry.  And you bet me at single-wicket!  That ’ll be something to relate to ’em all.  By Gearge, if I didn’t think I’d got a nettle in my fist when I saw you pitch into my stumps.  Dash it! thinks I. But th’ old squire ’ll be proud of you, that he will.  My farm lies three miles away.  You look at a crow flying due South-east five minutes from Riversley, and he’s over Throckham farm, and there I ‘ll drive ye to-night, and to-morrow, clean and tidy out o’ my wife’s soap and water, straight to Riversley.  Done, eh?  My name’s Eckerthy.  No matter where you comes from, here you are, eh, Master Harry?  And I see you last time in a donkey-basket, and here you come in breeches and defy me to singlewicket, and you bet me too!’

He laughed for jollity.  An extraordinary number of emotions had possession of me:  the most intelligible one being a restless vexation at myself, as the principal person concerned, for not experiencing anything like the farmer’s happiness.  I preferred a gipsy life to Riversley.  Gipsies were on the road, and that road led to my father.  I endeavoured to explain to Farmer Eckerthy that I was travelling in this direction merely to have a short look at Riversley; but it was impossible; he could not understand me.  The more I tried, the more he pressed me to finish my glass of ale, which had nothing to do with it.  I drank, nevertheless, and I suppose said many funny things in my anxiety that the farmer should know what I meant; he laughed enough.