Adam for a moment thought uncomfortably about his father; but of late
years he had never come home at dark hours from Treddleston, and
there was every reason for believing that he was then sleeping off his
drunkenness at the "Waggon Overthrown." Besides, to Adam, the conception
of the future was so inseparable from the painful image of his father
that the fear of any fatal accident to him was excluded by the deeply
infixed fear of his continual degradation. The next thought that
occurred to him was one that made him slip off his shoes and tread
lightly upstairs, to listen at the bedroom doors. But both Seth and his
mother were breathing regularly.

Adam came down and set to work again, saying to himself, "I won't open
the door again. It's no use staring about to catch sight of a sound.
Maybe there's a world about us as we can't see, but th' ear's quicker
than the eye and catches a sound from't now and then. Some people think
they get a sight on't too, but they're mostly folks whose eyes are not
much use to 'em at anything else. For my part, I think it's better to
see when your perpendicular's true than to see a ghost."

Such thoughts as these are apt to grow stronger and stronger as daylight
quenches the candles and the birds begin to sing. By the time the red
sunlight shone on the brass nails that formed the initials on the lid of
the coffin, any lingering foreboding from the sound of the willow
wand was merged in satisfaction that the work was done and the promise
redeemed. There was no need to call Seth, for he was already moving
overhead, and presently came downstairs.

"Now, lad," said Adam, as Seth made his appearance, "the coffin's done,
and we can take it over to Brox'on, and be back again before half after