be expected at any moment, and
Phoebe knew that to be in bed before the arrival of John Grimbal would
save her from the necessity of a meeting she much feared. She entered
upon her wedding-night, therefore, while the voices below droned on, now
rising, now falling; then, while she was saying her prayers with half
her mind on them, the other half feverishly intent on a certain sound,
it came. She heard the clink, clink of the gate, thrown wide open and
now swinging backwards and forwards, striking the hasp each time; then a
heavy step followed it, feet strode clanging down the passage, and the
bull roar of a man's voice fell on her ear. Upon this she huddled under
the clothes, but listened for a second at long intervals to hear when he
departed. The thing that had happened, however, since her husband's
departure and John Grimbal's arrival, remained happily hidden from
Phoebe until next morning, by which time a climax in affairs was past
and the outcome of tragic circumstances fully known.

When Blanchard left the farm, he turned his steps very slowly homewards,
and delayed some minutes on Rushford Bridge before appearing to his
mother. For her voice he certainly yearned, and for her strong sense to
throw light upon his future actions; but she did not know everything
there was to be known and he felt that with himself, when all was said,
lay decision as to his next step. While he reflected a new notion took
shape and grew defined and seemed good to him.

"Why not?" he said to himself, aloud. "Why not go back? Seeing the
provocation--they might surely--?" He pursued the idea silently and came
to a determination. Yet the contemplated action was never destined to be
performed, for now an accident so trifling as the chance glimmer of a
lucifer match contributed to remodel the scheme of his life and wholly
shatter immediate resolutions. Craving a whiff of tobacco, without which
he had been since morning, Will lighted his pipe, and the twinkle of
flame as he did so showed his face to a man passing across the bridge at
that moment. He stopped in his stride, and a great bellow of wrath
escaped him, half savage, half joyful.

"By God! I didn't think to meet so soon!"

Here was a red-hot raving Nemesis indeed; and Will, while prepared for a
speedy meeting with his enemy, neither expected nor desired an encounter
just then. But it had come, and he knew what was before him. Grimbal,
just returned from a long day's sport, rode back