When next he appears at the door he shows evident signs that he has accomplished the latter part of his purpose, for his course is anything but straight, and after taking nearly an hour to do half a mile he manages to stagger into a barn, where in a few moments he is "wrapt in sweet slumber."
He is not, however, likely to take any harm from the proceeding, for he is used to the sort of sleeping-place, and will turn out next morning--a little red about the eyes perhaps--but ready to go any distance with the hounds, and, what is more, equally ready for some more of the "hair of the dog that bit him."
Passionately fond of hounds and hunting, he enjoys life thoroughly during the winter, and lives on the fat of the land; but when what he calls the "stinking violets and primroses" appear, things are not so pleasant. "Othello's occupation gone," he has to fall back on odd jobs and an occasional half-a-crown from Sir John or some of his friends, and, failing these, may be generally found "at home" at the "red house," maybe better known as the "workus."
Vagabond he is, and vagabond he will remain. Nevertheless, there is many a man who would be sorry to hear of anything serious happening to Jack Whistler the Bullshire Runner.
The greatest friend or enemy of John Pillings could hardly accuse him of being either an over-sociable or too-genial individual. In fact, he has earned throughout the length and breadth of the county the nickname of "Ould Sulky," and is perhaps better known by that sobriquet than by the more lawful patronymic bestowed upon him by his parents and his godfather and godmother at his baptism.
This being the case, it may fairly be said that Pillings has at last settled down into his proper place, and is one of the few instances of the "round man in a round hole." He has not always been at the toll-gate; on the contrary, his life has been somewhat varied, and he has experienced a good many of the ups and downs of the world.
He began by being "bound 'prentice" to a carpenter, but his temper was against him, and so when his time was up he took to the more active life of a sailor.
Here again his enemy found him out, and he said good-bye to his shipmates without much sorrow on their part. "'Bout as much use a-talking to _him_ as a marlinspike. Mate yer calls him! Nasty sulky beggar! In everybody's mess and nobody's watch," was the general verdict of the men; so it was no wonder they were glad to see him go over the side.