ghed.

"Why, doan't 'ee believe in God?"

"I think I believe in the devil, if that's any good."

"Then, zur, I'd kill the devil."

"Can't; I love him too much."

"What, love the devil?"

"I hug him to my heart. He served me a nasty trick the other day, but I
stick to him all the same. Yes, he's my only friend. He's nearly always
with me. When I'm friendly with him, he helps me to forget. All the
same, I'm tired of him in a way. Now, then, what would you do?"

"The devil is allays our enemy, zur, allays. You must kill 'ee or you're
done for."

The conversation was out of her depth, but she felt sure she was saying
what was right.

"I'm inclined to think you are right," said Leicester, with a bitter
laugh. "And yet I don't know. What do you think he's been persuading me
to do this afternoon?"

"Summin' bad, you may depend, zur."

"I don't know. You know that big pool up among the moors. It has a kind
of fascination for me, and the devil always meets me there. He is always
telling me that it is very peaceful and quiet at the bottom of the
pool."

"What, you d' main Crazzick Pool? It ain't got no bottom to et. Et's the
devil's pool, tha's wot 'tes."

"Exactly. Well, he tempts me to walk into it, and sink, and sink, and
find rest and peace."

"You doan't git no peace except in Christ, zur," said Mrs. Pethick, who
was a class-leader among the Bible Christians.

Leicester looked at the dame's kindly face and wondered. Had this
simple, homely, kindly-faced woman learned any secret unknown to him? To
say the least, the question interested him.

"Look here," he said, "you don't mind speaking to a poor devil like I am
quite honestly, do you? In fact, it's no use speaking to me at all,
unless you do speak quite honestly, for I can detect a lie in a minute.
Do you really believe that Christ does help you?"

"Do I believe et? I'm zure, zur. Why, when I'm tempted to do wrong, to
think of Christ do 'elp me. Whenever I d' 'ave bad, wicked thoughts, I
d' jist think of Him, and they do go, zur. For zure they do."

"And He gives you peace, does He?" said Leicester half mockingly, half
seriously.

"Iss, zur, 'e do fer zure. I wudden zay zo ef I wasn't zackly zure. A
paice which I caan't git no other way. Why, when I be comin' home from
class-mitten' by myzelf, I git feared zumtimes, when tes dark; for the
way es loanly. But I d' talk weth Jesus oal the way, and then--well,
zur, the loanly road ez vull of light."