He caught her outstretched hands and held them close.

“Nothing—­nothing!” he answered, drawing his breath quick and hard—­“Nothing, lass!  No pain—­no—­not that!  I’m only frightened!  Frightened!—­think of it!—­me frightened who never knew fear!  And I—­I wouldn’t tell it to anyone but you—­I’m afraid of what’s coming—­of what’s bound to come!  ’Twould always have come, I know —­but I never thought about it—­it never seemed real!  It never seemed real—­”

Here the door opened, admitting a flood of cheerful light from the outside passage, and Robin Clifford entered.

“Hullo, Uncle!  Supper’s ready!”

The old man’s face changed instantly.  Its worn and scared expression smoothed into a smile, and, loosening his hold of Innocent, he straightened himself and stood erect.

“All right, my lad!  You’ve worked pretty late!”

“Yes, and we’ve not done yet.  But we shall finish stacking tomorrow,” answered Clifford—­“Just now we’re all tired and hungry.”

“Don’t say you’re thirsty!” said the old farmer, his smile broadening.  “How many barrels have been tapped to-day?”

“Oh, well!  You’d better ask Landon,”—­and Clifford’s light laugh had a touch of scorn in it,—­“he’s the man for the beer!  I hardly ever touch it—­Innocent knows that.”

“More work’s done on water after all,” said Jocelyn.  “The horses that draw for us and the cattle that make food for us prove that.  But we think we’re a bit higher than the beasts, and some of us get drunk to prove it!  That’s one of our strange ways as men!  Come along, lad!  And you, child,”—­here he turned to Innocent—­“run and tell Priscilla we’re waiting in the Great Hall.”

He seemed to have suddenly lost all feebleness, and walked with a firm step into what he called the Great Hall, which was distinguished by this name from the lesser or entrance hall of the house.  It was a nobly proportioned, very lofty apartment, richly timbered, the roof being supported by huge arched beams curiously and intricately carved.  Long narrow boards on stout old trestles occupied the centre, and these were spread with cloths of coarse but spotlessly clean linen and furnished with antique plates, tankards and other vessels of pewter which would have sold for a far larger sum in the market than solid silver.  A tall carved chair was set at the head of the largest table, and in this Farmer Jocelyn seated himself.  The men now began to come in from the fields in their work-a-day clothes, escorted by Ned Landon, their only attempt at a toilet having been a wash and brush up in the outhouses; and soon the hall presented a scene of lively bustle and activity.  Priscilla, entering it from the kitchen with her two assistants, brought in three huge smoking joints on enormous pewter dishes,—­then followed other good things of all sorts,—­ vegetables, puddings, pasties, cakes and fruit, which Innocent helped to set out all along the boards in tempting array.  It was