y straightened his face and cast both rancour and
merriment to the winds.

"Why, so he be; an' grey hairs should allus make allowance for the young
youths; though I ain't forgot that spadeful o' muck yet, an' never
shall. But theer's poison in bwoy's blood what awnly works out of the
brain come forty. I'm sure I wish nothing but well to un. He's got his
saving graces, same as all of us, if we could but see 'em; an' come what
may, God looks arter His awn chosen fules, so theer's hope even for
Blanchard." "Cold consolation," said Mr. Lyddon wearily; "but't is all
we've got. Two nights since I dreamt I saw un starvin' on a dunghill. 'T
was a parable, I judge, an' meant Newtake Farm."

CHAPTER IV

DEFEATED HOPES

Below Newtake Farm the river Teign wound, with many a foaming fall and
singing rapid, to confluence with her twin sister in the valley beneath.
Here, at a certain spot, above the forest and beneath the farm, stood
Martin Grimbal on a bright afternoon in May. Over his head rose a rowan,
in a soft cloud of serrated foliage, with clusters of grey-green flower
buds already foretelling the crimson to come; about his feet a silver
army of uncurling fronds brightened the earth and softened the sharp
edges of the boulders scattered down the coomb. Here the lover waited to
the music of a cuckoo, and his eyes ever turned towards a stile at the
edge of the pine woods, two hundred yards distant from him.

The hour was one of tremendous possibilities, because Fate had been
occupied with Martin through many days, and now he stood on the brink of
great joy or sorrow. Clement Hicks had never spoken to him. During his
quarrel with Chris, which lasted a fortnight, the bee-keeper purposely
abstained from doing her bidding, while after their reconciliation every
other matter in the world was swallowed up for a time in the delight of
renewed love-making. The girl, assuming throughout these long weeks that
Martin now knew all, had met him in frank and kindly spirit on those
occasions when he planned to enjoy her society, and this open warmth
awoke renewed heart for Grimbal, who into her genial friendship read
promise and from it recruited hope. His love now dominated his spiritual
being and filled his life. Grey granite was grey granite only, and no
more. During his long walks by pillar-stone, remote row, and lonely
circle, Chris, and Chris alone, occupied his brain. He debated the
advisability of approaching Will, then tur