"What a fool I am!" he said, trying to get up, but yielding at
once to Mary's prevention. "Ain't it ridic'lous now, miss, that a
man of my size, and ready to work a sledge with any smith in
Yorkshire, should turn sick for a little bit of a job with a
knife? But my father was just the same, and he was a stronger man
than I'm like to be, I fancy."
"It is no such wonder as you think," said Mary; "you have lost a
good deal of blood."
Her voice faltered. She had been greatly alarmed--and the more
that she had not light enough to get the edges of the wound
properly together.
"You've stopped it--ain't you, miss?"
"I think so."
"Then I'll be after the fellow."
"No, no; you must not attempt it. You must lie still awhile. But
I don't understand it at all! That cottage used to be a mere
hovel, without door or window! It can't be you live in it?"
"Ay, that I do! and it's not a bad place either," answered
Joseph. "That's what I went to Yorkshire to get my money for.
It's mine--bought and paid for."
"But what made you think of coming here?"
"Let's go into the smithy--house I won't presume to call it,"
said Joseph, "though it has a lean-to for the smith--and I'll
tell you everything about it. But really, miss, you oughtn't to
be out like this after dark. There's too many vagabonds about."
With but little need of the help Mary yet gave him, Joseph got
up, and led her to what was now a respectable little smithy, with
forge and bellows and anvil and bucket.
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