CHAPTER IX

THE PLAN WORKS

Although the air was bracingly keen the afternoon was calm and the scattered clouds scarcely moved across the sky.  The snow in the valley shone a delicate gray, and soft lights and shadows rested on the hills.  A peak that rose above the edge of the lofty moor gleamed pale-yellow against a background of deep blue.  Grace noted the tranquil beauty of the landscape, but hesitated now and then as she climbed the steep road out of the dale.

She had come to meet Kit Askew, and now she reviewed her reasons for doing so they did not look very sound.  In fact, if Kit approved the plan she meant to suggest, she would perhaps be meddling unjustifiably with her father’s business.  After all, however, it was really not his business.  He had allowed himself to be persuaded to help Hayes and the latter’s accomplice, Bell, without quite understanding what this implied.  Her plan would prevent his doing an injustice he did not really mean to do.

She suspected that there was a touch of sophistry about her arguments, but would not own that she had come because she wanted to meet Kit.  It was necessary that she should meet him; yet when she stopped at a gate and heard the tramp of horses’ feet behind, her color came and went.  For all that, she looked very calm, when Kit pulled up his team, and went forward to open the gate.  He made an abrupt movement as he recognized her, but his eyes shone with satisfaction.

“I suppose you are going for some peat,” she said.

Kit said he was, and added that Peter and two or three neighbors were loading the stone-boats on the moor.

“Then, I wonder whether you could let me have a small quantity when you come down?”

“You can have a load if you want.”

Grace laughed.  “Two or three basketsful would be enough, and I don’t want them for myself.  I went to see Mrs. Waite and found her old father crippled by rheumatism.  The kitchen was cold and damp, but she had a very little fire.  She said her coal was nearly gone and she had got no peat.”

“Thank you for telling me; I didn’t know,” said Kit.  “I’ll take her a sack as I go down the dale.”  He paused and hesitated, with his hand on the open gate.  “But it’s rather cold.  Am I keeping you?”

Grace noted with some satisfaction that he did not seem to think it remarkable she had met him at the lonely spot.

“Oh, no,” she said.  “I am going up the hill.  I like the view from the crag and sometimes go to watch the sunset.  When it shines over the shoulder of the Pike it throws wonderful lights on the snow.”

Kit agreed, and after he started his horses they went on together.  By and by Grace resumed:  “When I met you yesterday, your father said the sledges often ran down too fast and you could not put up a proper load.”

“That is a drawback.  You see, there’s plenty peat cut; the trouble is to bring it down.  After the heavy rain, we couldn’t drag the stone-boats across the boggy moor, and although the snow has made this easy, it hasn’t helped much otherwise.  If we put up a big load, there’s some danger of the sledges overtaking and knocking down the horses where the track is steep.”