How comes it
to pass the heriot is not paid!"
The widow made no reply. Her heart was full.
"See to it," continued the pitiless churl; "for if thy quittance be not
forthcoming, and that in haste, I'll turn thee and thy brats into the
moor-dikes, where ye may live upon turf and ditch-water if it so please
ye."
"Oh, ha' pity!" But the widow's prayer was vain. The Black Knight was
never known to hearken either to pity or persuasion.
"Thy cow--thy cow! This night let it be rendered. Sir Ralph Assheton
never uttered a threat that fell to the ground."
"Mother," said the boy, "is this Sir Ralph, our liege lord?"
"Ay, fool," angrily replied the knight. "And what may thy wits gather by
the asking?"
"And will _he_ ever die, mother?"
"Hush, Willy," said the terrified woman.
"Nay," returned the leering half-wit, "I was but a-thinking, that if he
does, may be _his_ master too will want a heriot."
"And what may be the name of my master?" said Sir Ralph, with a furious
oath.
"The devil," replied the boy, with apparent unconcern.
"Ay,--and what will they give him, dost think?"
"_Thee!_"
Whether the peculiar expression of the lad's face, or the fearless
indifference of his address, so unusual to that of the crouching slaves
he generally met with, contributed to the result, we know not; but,
instead of correcting the boy for his audacity, he hastily departed,
finally repeating his threat of punishment in case of disobedience.
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