“That’s not the talk as’ll make Newtake pay, Will.  You ’m worse than poor Blee to Monks Barton.  He’s gwaine round givin’ out theer ban’t no God ’t all, ’cause Mrs. Coomstock took auld Lezzard ’stead of him.”

“You may laugh if you like, mother.  ’Tis the fashion to laugh at me seemin’ly.  But I doan’t care.  Awnly you’ll be sorry some day, so sure as you sit in thicky chair.  Now, as you’ve nothin’ but blame, best to go back home.  I’ll put your pony in the shafts.  ’Twas a pity you corned so far for so little.”

He went off, his breast heaving, while the woman followed him with her eyes and smiled when he was out of sight.  She knew him so well, and already pictured her repentant son next Sunday.  Then Will would be at his mother’s cottage, and cut the bit of beef at dinner, and fuss over her comfort according to his custom.

She went into the farmyard and took the pony from him and led it back into the stall.  Then she returned to him and put her arm through his and spoke.

“Light your pipe, lovey, an’ walk a li’l way along down to the stones on the hill, wheer you was born.  Your auld mother wants to talk to ’e.”

CHAPTER X

CONNECTING LINKS

Spaces of time extending over rather more than a year may now be dismissed in a chapter.

Chris Blanchard, distracted between Will and her lover, stayed on at Newtake after the estrangement, with a hope that she might succeed in healing the breach between them; but her importunity failed of its good object, and there came an August night when she found her own position at her brother’s farm grow no longer tenable.

The blinds were up, and rays from the lamp shot a broad band of light into the farmyard, while now and again great white moths struck soft blows against the closed window, then vanished again into the night.  Will smoked and Chris pleaded until a point, beyond which her brother’s patience could not go, was reached.  Irritation grew and grew before her ceaseless entreaty on Clement’s behalf; for the thousandth time she begged him to write a letter of apology and explanation of the trouble bred by Sam Bonus; and he, suddenly rising, smashed down his clay pipe and swore by all his gods he would hear the name of Hicks mentioned in his house no more.  Thus challenged to choose between her lover and her brother, the girl did not hesitate.  Something of Will’s own spirit informed her; she took him at his word and returned home next morning, leaving him to manage his own household affairs henceforth as best he might.

Upon the way to Chagford Chris chanced to meet with Martin Grimbal, and, having long since accepted his offer of friendship, she did not hesitate to tell him of her present sorrow and invite his sympathy.  From ignorance rather than selfishness did Chris take Martin literally when he had hoped in the past they might remain friends, and their intercourse was always maintained by her when chance put one in the other’s way—­at a cost to the man beyond her power to guess.