Each was busy with his thoughts--the one too weak, the other too strong, to give them utterance.
"There," said Ralph as they reached the top of the Raise, "we must part now, old friend." He tried to give a cheery tone to his voice.
"You'll go on to the fell every day and look around--an idle task, I fear, but still you'll go, as I would have gone if I might have stayed in the old country." Sim nodded assent.
"And now you'll go back to the Mess, as I told you.

Rotha will want you there, and Willy too.

You'll fill my place till I return, you know." Sim shook his head.
"I'd be nothing but an ache and a stound to the lass, as I've olas been--nothing but an ache and a stound to them all." "No, not that; a comfort, if only you will try to have it so.

Be a man, Sim--look men in the face--things will mend with you now.

Go back and live with them at the old home; they'll want you there." "Since you will not let me come with you, Ralph, tell me when will you come back?
I'm afeart--I don't know why--but some'at tells me you'll not come back--tell me, Ralph, that you _will_." "These troublous times will soon be past," said Ralph.