The countenance of the rustic was pale, but his bearing was determined.
"You here, my son," cried Paslew.

"I hoped you had escaped." "Ey'm i' nah dawnger, feyther abbut," replied Hal.

"Ey'n getten leef to visit ye fo a minute only, so ey mun be brief.

Mey yourself easy, ye shanna dee be't hongmon's honds." "How, my son!" cried Paslew.

"I understand you not." "Yo'n onderstond me weel enough by-and-by," replied Hal.