“Get the lanterns and call Sam Bonus.  He must stand to this door an’ let no man in while we ’m away.  God send the chap ban’t dead.  I don’t like for a long-cripple to suffer torture.”

“That’s your high religion.  An’ I’ll carry the brandy, for ’t is a liquor, when all ’s said, what ’s saved more bodies in this world than it ‘s damned sawls in the next, an’ a thing pleasant, tu, used with sense—­specially if a man can sleep ’fore ’t is dead in un.”

“Hurry, hurry!  Every minute may mean life or death.  I’ll call Bonus; you get the lanterns.”

Ten minutes later a huge labourer stood guard over Monks Barton, and the miller, with his man, entered upon their long and fruitless search.  The thaw had come, but glimmering ridges of snow still outlined the bases of northern-facing hedges along the river.  With infinite labour and some difficulty they explored the stream, then, wet and weary, returned by the southern bank to their starting-point at Rushford Bridge.  Here Billy found a cloth cap by the water’s edge, and that was the only evidence of Will’s downfall.  As they clambered up from the river Mr. Lyddon noted bright eyes shining across the night, and found that the windows of Mrs. Blanchard’s cottage were illuminated.

“They ‘m waitin’ for him by the looks of it,” he said.  “What ought us to do, I wonder?”

Billy never objected to be the bearer of news, good or ill, so that it was sensational; but a thought struck him at seeing the lighted windows.

“Why, it may be he’s theer!  If so, then us might find Grimbal didn’t slay un arter all.  ‘T was such a miz-maze o’ crooked words he let fly ’pon us, that perhaps us misread un.”

“I wish I thought so.  Come.  Us can ax that much.”

A few minutes later they stood at Mrs. Blanchard’s door and knocked.  The widow herself appeared, fully dressed, wide awake, and perfectly collected.  Her manner told Mr. Lyddon nothing.

“What might you want, Miller?”

“’T is Will.  There’s bin blows struck and violence done, I hear.”

“I can tell ‘e the rest.  The bwoy’s paid his score an’ got full measure.  He wanted to be even with you, tu, but they wouldn’t let un.”

“If he ban’t dead, I’ll make him smart yet for his evil act.”

“I warned ‘e.  He was cheated behind his back, an’ played with the same cards what you did, and played better.”

“Wheer is he now?  That’s what I want to knaw.”

“Up in the house.  They met on the bridge an’ Grimbal bested him, Will bein’ weary an’ empty-bellied.  When the man flinged him in the stream, he got under the arch behind the rocks afore he lost his head for a time and went senseless.  When he comed to he crawled up the croft and I let un in.”

“Thank God he’s not dead; but punishment he shall have if theer’s justice in the land.”

“Bide your time.  He won’t shirk it.  But he’s hurted proper; you might let Jan Grimbal knaw, ’t will ease his mind.”