We walked a little farther, and he said:

“Mas’r Davy, shall you see her, d’ye think?”

“It would be too painful to her, perhaps,” said I.

“I have thowt of that,” he replied. “So ’twould, sir, so ’twould.”

“But, Ham,” said I, gently, “if there is anything that I could write to her, for you, in case I could not tell it; if there is anything you would wish to make known to her through me; I should consider it a sacred trust.”

“I am sure on’t. I thankee, sir, most kind! I think theer is something I could wish said or wrote.”

“What is it?”

We walked a little farther in silence, and then he spoke.