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The House on the Borderland by William Hope Hodgson
page 5 of 176 (02%)
the doorway.

Tonnison had got the stove lit now and was busy cutting slices of bacon
into the frying pan; so I took the kettle and walked down to the river
for water. On the way, I had to pass close to a little group of the
village people, who eyed me curiously, but not in any unfriendly manner,
though none of them ventured a word.

As I returned with my kettle filled, I went up to them and, after a
friendly nod, to which they replied in like manner, I asked them
casually about the fishing; but, instead of answering, they just shook
their heads silently, and stared at me. I repeated the question,
addressing more particularly a great, gaunt fellow at my elbow; yet
again I received no answer. Then the man turned to a comrade and said
something rapidly in a language that I did not understand; and, at once,
the whole crowd of them fell to jabbering in what, after a few moments,
I guessed to be pure Irish. At the same time they cast many glances in
my direction. For a minute, perhaps, they spoke among themselves thus;
then the man I had addressed faced 'round at me and said something. By
the expression of his face I guessed that he, in turn, was questioning
me; but now I had to shake my head, and indicate that I did not
comprehend what it was they wanted to know; and so we stood looking at
one another, until I heard Tonnison calling to me to hurry up with the
kettle. Then, with a smile and a nod, I left them, and all in the little
crowd smiled and nodded in return, though their faces still betrayed
their puzzlement.

It was evident, I reflected as I went toward the tent, that the
inhabitants of these few huts in the wilderness did not know a word of
English; and when I told Tonnison, he remarked that he was aware of the
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