He was standing immediately inside the door at the bottom, though it was
so dark she could hardly see him. The villagers were audibly talking
just without.
'He's sure to come, rathe or late,' resounded up the spiral in the vocal
note of Hezzy Biles. 'He wouldn't let such a fine show as the comet
makes to-night go by without peeping at it,--not Master Cleeve! Did ye
bring along the flagon, Haymoss? Then we'll sit down inside his little
board-house here, and wait. He'll come afore bed-time. Why, his spy-
glass will stretch out that there comet as long as Welland Lane!' 'I'd as soon miss the great peep-show that comes every year to Greenhill
Fair as a sight of such a immortal spectacle as this!' said Amos Fry.
'"Immortal spectacle,"--where did ye get that choice mossel, Haymoss?'
inquired Sammy Blore. 'Well, well, the Lord save good scholars--and take
just a bit o' care of them that bain't! As 'tis so dark in the hut,
suppose we draw out the bench into the front here, souls?' The bench was accordingly brought forth, and in order to have a back to
lean against, they placed it exactly across the door into the spiral
staircase.
'Now, have ye got any backy? If ye haven't, I have,' continued Sammy
Blore. A striking of matches followed, and the speaker concluded
comfortably, 'Now we shall do very well.' 'And what do this comet mean?' asked Haymoss. 'That some great tumult is
going to happen, or that we shall die of a famine?' 'Famine--no!' said Nat Chapman. 'That only touches such as we, and the
Lord only consarns himself with born gentlemen. It isn't to be supposed
that a strange fiery lantern like that would be lighted up for folks with
ten or a dozen shillings a week and their gristing, and a load o' thorn
faggots when we can get 'em. If 'tis a token that he's getting hot about
the ways of anybody in this parish, 'tis about my Lady Constantine's,
since she is the only one of a figure worth such a hint.' 'As for her income,--that she's now lost.' 'Ah, well; I don't take in all I hear.' Lady Constantine drew close to St. Cleeve's side, and whispered,
trembling, 'Do you think they will wait long? Or can we get out?' Swithin felt the awkwardness of the situation. The men had placed the
bench close to the door, which, owing to the stairs within, opened
outwards; so that at the first push by the pair inside to release
themselves the bench must have gone over, and sent the smokers sprawling
on their faces. He whispered to her to ascend the column and wait till
he came.