“You re speaking plainly, at any rate.  We ought to understand each other to-day, if ever.  I’ll make you the same offer for less return.  Tell me where he was during those weeks—­that’s all.  You needn’t tell what he was doing.”

“If you knew one, you’d find out the other.  Once and for all, I’ll tell you nothing.  By an accidental question you discovered that I knew something.  That was not my fault.  But more you never will know from me—­farm or no farm.”

“You’re a fool for your pains.  And the end will be the same.  The information must reach me.  You’re a coward at heart, for it’s fear, not any tomfoolery of morals, that keeps your mouth shut.  Don’t deceive yourself.  I’ve often talked with you before to-day, and I know you think as I do.”

“What’s that to do with it?”

“Everything.  ‘Good’ and ‘evil’ are only two words, and what is man’s good and what is man’s evil takes something cleverer than man to know.  It’s no nonsense of ‘right’ and ‘wrong’ that’s keeping you from a happy home and a wife.  What is it then?”

Hicks was silent a moment, then made answer.

“I don’t know.  I don’t know any more than you do.  Something has come over me; I can’t tell you what.  I’m more surprised than you are at my silence; but there it is.  Why the devil I don’t speak I don’t know.  I only know I’m not going to.  Our characters are beyond our own power to understand.”

“If you don’t know, I’ll tell you.  You’re frightened that he will find out.  You’re afraid of him.”

“It’s vain trying to anger me into speaking,” answered the other, showing not a little anger the while; “I’m dumb henceforward.”

“I hope you’ll let your brain influence you towards reason.  ’Tis a fool’s trick to turn your back on the chance of a lifetime.  Better think twice.  And second thoughts are like to prove best worth following.  You know where to find me at any rate.  I’ll give you six weeks to decide about it.”

John Grimbal waited, hoping that Hicks might yet change his mind before he took his leave; but the bee-keeper made no answer.  His companion therefore broke into a sharp trot and left him.  Whereupon Clement stood still a moment, then he turned back and, forgetting all about Chris, proceeded slowly homewards to Chagford, deep in thought and heartily astonished at himself.  No one could have prompted his enemy to a more critical moment for this great attack; no demon could have sent the master of the Red House with a more tempting proposal; and yet Hicks found himself resisting the lure without any particular effort or struggle.  On the one side this man had offered him all the things his blood and brain craved; on the other his life still stretched drearily forward, and nothing in it indicated he was nearer his ambition by a hair’s-breadth than a year before.  Yet he refused to pay the price.  It amazed him to find his determination so fixed against betrayal of Will.  He honestly wondered at himself.