When he left it, he found himself in a district
eminently characteristic of that part of the country. The tram set him
down at a cross-roads on a high ridge of land. Beneath him lay Barford,
its towers and spires and the gables of its tall buildings showing
amongst the smoke of its many chimneys. All about him lay open ground,
broken by the numerous stone quarries of which Eldrick had spoken, and
at a little distance along one of the four roads at the intersection of
which he stood, he saw a few houses and cottages, one of which, taller
and bigger than the rest, was distinguished by a pole, planted in front
of its stone porch and bearing a swinging sign whereon was rudely
painted the figure of a man in Lincoln green. Byner walked on to this,
entered a flagged hall, and found himself confronting Pickard, who at
sight of him, motioned him into a little parlour behind the bar.
"Mornin', mister," said he. "You'll be all right in here--there's nobody
about just now, and if my missis or any o' t' servant lasses sees yer,
they'll tak' yer for a brewer's traveller, or summat o' that sort. Come
to hev a look round, like--what?"
"I want to have a look at the place where you told us Parrawhite was to
meet Pratt that night," replied Byner. "I thought you would perhaps be
kind enough to show me where it is."
"I will, an' all--wi' pleasure," said the landlord, "but ye mun hev a
drop o' summat first--try a glass o' our ale," he went on, with true
Yorkshire hospitality.
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