will surrender immediately. You doubt it. You smile at the
idea. Your opinion of human nature is low. Mine is not enthusiastic. But
I judge others by myself."

"So do I," Mr. Mordacks answered, with a smile of curious humor. And the
rector could not help smiling too, at this instance of genuine candor.
"However, not to go too deeply into that," his visitor continued, "there
really is one point in Robin's letter which demands inquiry. I mean
about the guns of the Preventive men. Cadman may be a rogue. Most
probably he is. None of the others confirm, although they do not
contradict him. Do you know anything about him?"

"Only villainy--in another way. Ho led away a nice girl of this parish,
an industrious mussel-gatherer. And he then had a wife and large family
of his own, of which the poor thing knew nothing. Her father nearly
killed him; and I was compelled (very much against my will) to inflict
a penalty. Cadman is very shy of Flamborough now. By-the-way, have you
called upon poor Widow Carroway?"

"I thank you for the hint. She is the very person. It will be a sad
intrusion; and I have put it off as long as possible. After what Robin
says, it is most important. I hope that Sir Duncan will be here very
shortly. He is coming from Yarmouth in his own yacht. Matters are
crowding upon me very fast. I will see Mrs. Carroway as soon as it is
decent. Good-morning, and best thanks to your Worship."

CHAPTER XXXVIII

THE DEMON OF THE AXE

The air was sad and heavy thus, with discord, doubt, and death
itself gathering and descending, like the clouds of long night, upon
Flamborough. But far away, among the mountains and the dreary moorland,
the "intake" of the coming winter was a great deal worse to see. For
here no blink of the sea came up, no sunlight under the sill of clouds
(as happens where wide waters are), but rather a dark rim of brooding on
the rough horizon seemed to thicken itself against the light under the
sullen march of vapors--the muffled funeral of the year. Dry trees and
naked crags stood forth, and the dirge of the wind went to and fro, and
there was no comfort out-of-doors.

Soon the first snow of the winter came, the first abiding earnest snow,
for several skits had come before, and ribbed with white the mountain
breasts. But nobody took much heed of that, except to lean over the
plough, while it might be sped, or to want more breakfast. Well resigned
was everybody to the stoppage of work by win