long fought against the rumour and deceived
herself by pretending to believe Chris, whose opinion differed from that
of most people, yet at her heart she felt truth must lie hidden
somewhere in the tangle. Will and Mr. Lyddon alone knew nothing of the
report, and Phoebe hesitated to break it to her husband. He was
happy--perhaps in the consciousness that nobody realised the truth; and
yet at his very gates a bitter foe guessed at part of his secret and
knew the rest. Still Phoebe could not bring herself to speak
immediately. A day of mental stress and strain ended, and she retired
and lay beside Will very sad. Under darkness of night the threats of the
enemy grew into an imminent disaster of terrific dimensions, and with
haunting fear she finally slept, to waken in a nightmare.

Will, wholly ignorant of the facts, soothed Phoebe's alarm and calmed
her as she clung to him in hysterical tears.

"No ill shall come to 'e while I live," she sobbed: "not if all the
airth speaks evil of 'e. I'll cleave to 'e, and fight for 'e, an' be a
gude wife, tu,--a better wife than you've been husband."

"Bide easy, an' doan't cry no more. My arm's round 'e, dearie. Theer,
give awver, do! You've been dreamin' ugly along o' the poor supper you
made, I reckon. Doan't 'e think nobody's hand against me now, for ban't
so. Folks begin to see the manner of man I am; an' Miller knaws, which
is all I care about. He've got a strong right arm workin' for him an' a
tidy set o' brains, though I sez it; an' you might have a worse husband,
tu, Phoebe; but theer--shut your purty eyes--I knaw they 'm awpen still,
for I can hear your lashes against the sheet. An' doan't 'e go out in
the early dews mushrooming no more, for 't is cold work, an' you've got
to be strong these next months."

She thought for a moment of telling him boldly concerning the legend
spreading on every side; but, like others less near and dear to him, she
feared to do so.

Knowing Will Blanchard, not a man among the backbiters had cared to risk
a broken head by hinting openly at the startling likeness between the
child and himself; and Phoebe felt her own courage unequal to the task
just then. She racked her brains with his dangers long after he was
himself asleep, and finally she determined to seek Chris next morning
and hear her opinion before taking any definite step.

On the same night another pair of eyes were open, and trouble of a sort
only less deep than that of the wife