Now the necessity for action gained gigantically upon Hicks, and spun a net of subtle sophistry that soon had the poor wretch enmeshed beyond possibility of escape.  He assured himself that the problem was reduced to a mere question of justice to a woman.  A sacrifice must be made between one whom he loved better than anything in the world, and one for whom he cared not at all.  That these two persons chanced to be brother and sister was an unfortunate accident, but could not be held a circumstance strong enough to modify his determination.  He had, indeed, solemnly sworn to Will to keep his secret, but what mattered that before this more crushing, urgent duty to Chris?  His manhood cried out to him to protect her.  Nothing else signified in the least; the future—­the best that he could hope for—­might be ashy and hopeless now; but it was with the immediate present and his duty that he found himself concerned.  There remained but one grim way; and, through such overwhelming, shattering storm and stress as falls to the lot of few, he finally took it.  To marry at any cost and starve afterwards if necessary, had been the more simple plan; and that course of action must first have occurred to any other man but this; to him, however, it did not occur.  The crying, shrieking need for money was the thing that stunned him and petrified him.  Shattered and tossed to the brink of aberration, stretched at frightful mental tension for a fortnight, he finally succumbed, and told himself that his defeat was victory.

He wrote to John Grimbal, explained that he desired to see him on the morrow, and the master of the Red House, familiar with recent affairs, rightly guessed that Hicks had changed his mind.  Excited beyond measure, the victor fixed a place for their conversation, and it was a strange one.

“Meet me at Oke Tor,” he wrote.  “By an accident I shall be in the Taw Marshes to-morrow, and will ride to you some time in the afternoon.—­J.G.”

Thus, upon a day when Will Blanchard called at Mrs. Hicks’s cottage, Clement had already started for his remote destination on the Moor.  With some unconscious patronage Will saluted Mrs. Hicks and called for Clement.  Then he slapped down a flat envelope under the widow’s eyes.

“Us have thought a lot about this trouble, mother, an’ Phoebe’s hit on as braave a notion as need be.  You see, Clem’s my close friend again now, an’ Chris be my sister; so what’s more fittin’ than that I should set up the young people?  An’ so I shall, an’ here’s a matter of Bank of England notes as will repay the countin’.  Give ’em to Clem wi’ my respects.”

Then Will suffered a surprise.  The little woman before him swelled and expanded, her narrow bosom rose, her thin lips tightened, and into her dim eyes there came pride and brightness.  It was her hour of triumph, and she felt a giantess as she stood regarding the envelope and Will.  Him she had never liked since his difference with her son concerning Martin Grimbal, and now, richer for certain news of that morning, she gloried to throw the gift back.