ch, two chairs, some utensils, a fireplace
of stone, a picture of the Virgin and Child, and of a cardinal of the
Church of Rome with a red hat--for the chair-maker had been a Roman
Catholic, the only one of that communion in Hamley. Had he been a
Protestant his vices would have made him anathema, but, being what he
was, his fellow-villagers had treated him with kindness.

After the half-day in which he was permitted to make due preparations,
lay in store of provisions, and purchase a few sheep and hens, hither
came David Claridge. Here, too, came Faith, who was permitted one hour
with him before he began his life of willing isolation. Little was said
as they made the journey up the hill, driving the sheep before them,
four strong lads following with necessities--flour, rice, potatoes, and
suchlike.

Arrived, the goods were deposited inside the hut, the lads were
dismissed, and David and Faith were left alone. David looked at his
watch. They had still a handful of minutes before the parting. These
flew fast, and yet, seated inside the door, and looking down at the
village which the sun was bathing in the last glowing of evening,
they remained silent. Each knew that a great change had come in their
hitherto unchanging life, and it was difficult to separate premonition
from substantial fact. The present fact did not represent all they felt,
though it represented all on which they might speak together now.

Looking round the room, at last Faith said: "Thee has all thee needs,
David? Thee is sure?"

He nodded. "I know not yet how little man may need. I have lived in
plenty."

At that moment her eyes rested on the Cloistered House.

"The Earl of Eglington would not call it plenty." A shade passed over
David's face. "I know not how he would measure. Is his own field so
wide?"

"The spread of a peacock's feather."

"What does thee know of him?" David asked the question absently.

"I have eyes to see, Davy." The shadows from that seeing were in her
eyes as she spoke, but he did not observe them.

"Thee sees but with half an eye," she continued. "With both mine I have
seen horses and carriages, and tall footmen, and wine and silver, and
gilded furniture, and fine pictures, and rolls of new carpet--of Uncle
Benn's best carpets, Davy--and a billiard-table, and much else."

A cloud slowly gathered over David's face, and he turned to her with an
almost troubled surprise. "Thee has seen these things--and how?"

"One day