'And bring it yourself, this evening,' said I, 'or it might get lost on the road.' Says the butcher, 'Well, sir, that is the first piece of friendly advice any good Christian has bestowed--' But I heard no more, owing to Martha chasing me out of the shop.
"To reach the old church we had to pass the old ruffian's door.

Martha went in; I sauntered on, and she soon came after me, with the key in her hand.

'But,' said she, 'he told me if my name hadn't been Dence he wouldn't trust me with it, though I went on my bended knees.' "We opened the church-door, and I spent an hour inside, examining and copying inscriptions for you.

But, when I came to take up a loose brass, to try and decipher it, Martha came screaming at me, 'Oh, put it down! put it down! I pledged my word to Squire you should not touch them brasses.' What could I do, mother?
The poor girl was in an agony.

This old ruffian has, somehow, bewitched her, and her father too, into a sort of superstitious devotion that I can't help respecting, unreasonable as it is.