other's places quick enough, for we're
fickle brutes."

"A strange swarm we hive in our hearts, God knows."

"And it eats out our hearts for our pains."

"You've found out that, have you?" asked John curiously.

"Long ago."

"Everybody does, sooner or later."

There was a pause. Overhead the multitude dwindled while the great
glimmering cluster on the tree correspondingly increased, and the fierce
humming of the bees was like the sound of a fire. Clement feared
nothing, but he had seen few face a hiving without some distrust. The
man beside him, however, stood with his hands in his pockets,
indifferent and quite unprotected.

"You will be wiser to stand farther away, Mr. Grimbal. You're unlikely
to come off scot-free if you keep so close."

"What do I care? I've been stung by worse than insects."

"And I also," answered Clement, with such evident passion that the other
grew a little interested. He had evidently pricked a sore point in this
moody creature.

"Was it a woman stung you?"

"No, no; don't heed me."

Clement was on guard over himself again. "Your business is with
bees"--his mother's words echoed in his mind to the pulsing monotone of
the swarm. He tried to change the subject, sent for a pail of water, and
drew a large syringe from his bag, though the circumstances really
rendered this unnecessary. But John Grimbal, always finding a sort of
pleasure in his own torment, took occasion to cross-question Clement.

"I suppose I'm laughed at still in Chagford, am I not? Not that it
matters to me."

"I don't think so; an object of envy, rather, for good wives are easier
to get than great riches."

"That's your opinion, is it? I'm not so sure. Are you married?"

"No."

"Going to be, I'll wager, if you think good wives can be picked off
blackberry bushes."

"I don't say that at all. But I am going to be married certainly. I'm
fortunate and unfortunate. I've won a prize, but--well, honey's cheap. I
must wait."

"D' you trust her? Is waiting so easy?"

"Yes, I trust her, as I trust the sun to swing up out of the east
to-morrow, to set in the west to-night. She's the only being of my own
breed I do trust. As for the other question, no--waiting isn't easy."

"Nor yet wise. I shouldn't wait. Tell me who she is. Women interest me,
and the taking of 'em in marriage."

Hicks hesitated. Here he was drifting helpless under this man's hard
eyes--helpless and yet not unwilling. He told himself that he