He was walking slowly along the stone fence as these thoughts passed through his mind, and he had not gone fifty yards, when he saw the white, upturned face of an apparently dead man.
"Why—a—it's Aske!"
He shook all over. For a moment a fierce joy thrilled him from head to foot; the next one he was bending over his prostrate foe and asking, "Does ta know me?"
"Water!" gasped Aske.
"Ay, I'll get it for thee."
There is always running water by a stone fence on a Yorkshire moor, and Burley knew, though it was silent under its coat of ice, it was there. But what should he bring it in? He was a man good in emergencies, and he took out his watch, broke off the case, and filled it again and again with precious mouthfuls for the perishing man.
"Don't leave me to die Burley. I—will—give—up—the—suit!" whispered Aske. "Save me, Burley."
"Not for t' biggest bill o' damages iver given."
"I'll—give—up—the—mill, too."
