CHAPTER IV

BY THE RIVER

Clement Hicks paid an early visit to Will’s home upon the following morning.  He had already set out to Okehampton with ten pounds of honey in the comb, and at Mrs. Blanchard’s cottage he stopped the little public vehicle which ran on market-days to the distant town.  That the son of the house was up and away at dawn told his family nothing, for his movements were at all times erratic, and part of his duty consisted in appearing on the river at uncertain times and in unexpected localities.  Clement Hicks often called for a moment upon his way to market, and Chris, who now greeted her lover, felt puzzled at the unusual gravity of his face.  She turned pale when she heard his tremendous news; but the mother was of more Spartan temperament and received intelligence of Will’s achievement without changing colour or ceasing from her occupation.

Between Damaris Blanchard and her boy had always existed a perfect harmony of understanding, rare even in their beautiful relationship.  The thoughts of son and mother chimed; not seldom they anticipated each other’s words.  The woman saw much of her dead husband reflected in Will and felt a moral conviction that through the storms of youth, high temper, and inexperience, he would surely pass to good things, by reason of the strenuous honesty and singleness of purpose that actuated him; he, on his side, admired the great calmness and self-possession of his mother.  She was so steadfast, so strong, and wiser than any woman he had ever seen.  With a fierce, volcanic affection Will Blanchard loved her.  She and Phoebe alike shared his whole heart.

“It is a manly way of life he has chosen, and that is all I may say.  He is ambitious and strong, and I should be the last to think he has not done well to go into the world for a while,” said Clement.

“When is he coming back again?” asked Chris.

“He spoke of ten years or so.”

“Then ’twill be more or less,” declared Mrs. Blanchard, calmly.  “Maybe a month, maybe five years, or fifteen, not ten, if he said ten.  He’ll shaw the gude gold he’s made of, whether or no.  I’m happy in this and not surprised.  ’Twas very like to come arter last night, if things went crooked.”

“’Tis much as faither might have done,” said Chris.

“’Tis much what he did do.  Thank you for calling, Clem Hicks.  Now best be away, else they’ll drive off to Okehampton without ’e.”

Clement departed, Chris wept as the full extent of her loss was impressed upon her, and Mrs. Blanchard went up to her son’s room.  There she discovered the velveteen suit with a card upon them:  “Hand over to Mr. Morgan, Head Water-keeper, Sandypark.”  She looked through his things, and found that he had taken nothing but his money, one suit of working clothes, and a red tie—­her present to him on his birthday during the previous month.  All his other