rs returned
to the valley, and Phoebe spoke to Will as they walked apart from the
rest. A sight of the enemy it was that loosed her lips, for, much to the
surprise of all present, John Grimbal had attended his brother's
wedding. As the little gathering streamed away after the ceremony, he
had galloped off again with a groom behind him, and the incident now led
to greater things.

"Chill-fashion weddin'," said Will, as he walked homewards, "but it
'pears to me all Blanchards be fated to wed coorious. Well, 't is a gude
matter out o' hand. I knaw I raged somethin' terrible come I fust heard
it, but I think differ'nt now, specially when I mind what Chris must
have felt those times she seed me welting her child an' heard un yell,
yet set her teeth an' never shawed a sign."

"Did 'e note Jan Grimbal theer?"

"I seed un, an' I catched un wi' his eye on you more 'n wance. He 's
grawed to look nowadays as if his mouth allus had a sour plum in it."

"His brain's got sour stuff hid in it if his mouth haven't. Be you ever
feared of un?"

"Not me. Why for should I be? He'll be wan of the fam'ly like, now. He
caan't keep his passion alive for ever. We 'm likely to meet when Martin
do come home again from honeymooning."

"Will, I must tell you something--something gert an' terrible. I should
have told 'e 'fore now but I was frightened."

"Not feared to speak to me?"

"Ess, seeing the thing I had to say. I've waited weeks in fear an'
tremblin', expecting something to happen, an' all weighed down with
fright an' dread. Now, what wi' the cheel that's comin', I caan't carry
this any more."

Being already lachrymose, after the manner of women at a wedding, Phoebe
now shed a tear or two. Will thereupon spoke words of comfort, and
blamed her for hiding any matter from him.

"More trouble?" he said. "Yet I doan't think it,--not now,--just as I be
right every way. I guess 't is your state makes you queer an' glumpy."

"I hope 't was vain talk an' not true anyway."

"More talk 'bout me? You'd think Chagford was most tired o' my name,
wouldn't 'e? Who was it now?"

"Him--Jan Grimbal. I met him 'mong the mushrooms. He burst out an' said
wicked, awful things, but his talk touched the li'l bwoy. He thought Tim
was yourn an' he was gwaine to do mischief against you."

"Damn his black mind! I wonder he haven't rotted away wi' his awn bile
'fore now."

"But that weern't all. He talked an' talked, an' threatened if you
didn't go an