So Tackleton went to Tilly Slowboy's relief; and he too kicked and
knocked; and he too failed to get the least reply. But he thought
of trying the handle of the door; and as it opened easily, he
peeped in, looked in, went in, and soon came running out again.
'John Peerybingle,' said Tackleton, in his ear. 'I hope there has
been nothing--nothing rash in the night?'
The Carrier turned upon him quickly.
'Because he's gone!' said Tackleton; 'and the window's open. I
don't see any marks--to be sure it's almost on a level with the
garden: but I was afraid there might have been some--some scuffle.
Eh?'
He nearly shut up the expressive eye altogether; he looked at him
so hard. And he gave his eye, and his face, and his whole person,
a sharp twist. As if he would have screwed the truth out of him.
'Make yourself easy,' said the Carrier. 'He went into that room
last night, without harm in word or deed from me, and no one has
entered it since. He is away of his own free will. I'd go out
gladly at that door, and beg my bread from house to house, for
life, if I could so change the past that he had never come.
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