For his brother he mourned deeply enough, and when the thousand rumours bred of the battle on the bridge were hatched and fluttered over the countryside, Martin it was who exerted all his power to stay them.  Most people were impressed with the tragic nature of the unfortunate John’s disappointment; but his energetic measures since the event were held to pay all scores, and it was believed the matter would end without any more trouble from him.  Clement Hicks entertained a different opinion, perhaps judging John Grimbal from the secrets of his own character; but Will expressed a lively faith that his rival must now cry quits, after his desperate and natural but unsuccessful attempt to render Phoebe a widow.  The shattered youth took his broken bones very easily, and only grunted when he found that his wife was not permitted to visit him under any pretence whatever; while as for Phoebe, her wild sorrow gradually lessened and soon disappeared as each day brought a better account of Will.  John Grimbal vanished on the trip which was to have witnessed his honeymoon.  He pursued his original plans with the modification that Phoebe had no part in them, and it was understood that he would return to Chagford in the spring.

Thus matters stood, and when his brother was gone and Will and Phoebe had been married a month, Martin, having suffered all that love could do meantime, considered he might now approach the Blanchards.  Ignorantly he pursued an awkward course, for wholly unaware that Clement Hicks felt any interest in Will and his sister beyond that of friendship, Martin sought from him the general information he desired upon the subject of Chris, her family and concerns.

Together the two men went upon various excursions to ancient relics that interested them both, though in different measure.  It was long before Martin found courage to bring forth the words he desired to utter, but finally he managed to do so, in the bracing conditions that obtained on Cosdon Beacon upon the occasion of a visit to its summit.  By this time he had grown friendly with Hicks and must have learnt all and more than he desired to know but for the bee-keeper’s curious taciturnity.  For some whim Clement never mentioned his engagement; it was a subject as absent from his conversation as his own extreme poverty; but while the last fact Martin had already guessed, the former remained utterly concealed from him.  Neither did any chance discover it until some time afterwards.

The hut-circles on Cosdon’s south-eastern flank occupied Martin’s pencil.  Clement gazed once upon the drawing, then turned away, for no feeling or poetry inspired the work; it was merely very accurate.  The sketches made, both men ascended immense Cosdon, where its crown of cairns frets the long summit; and here, to the sound of the wind in the dead heather, with all the wide world of Northern Devon extended beneath his gaze under a savage sunset, Martin found courage to speak.  At first Hicks did not hear.  His eyes were on the pageant of the sky and paid tribute of sad thought before an infinity of dying cloud splendours.  But the antiquary repeated his remark.  It related to Will Blanchard, and upon Clement dropping a monosyllabic reply his companion continued: