air to other people,
an' if 't was Doomsday I'd up an' say so. What gude deeds have he done
to have life smoothed out, an' the hills levelled an' the valleys filled
up? An' nought but sour looks for it."

"But be you sure he 'm happy?" inquired Mr. Chapple. "He 'm not the man
to walk 'bout wi' a fiddle-faace if 't was fair weather wi' un. He've
got his troubles same as us, depend upon it."

Blanchard himself entered at this moment. It wanted but half an hour to
closing time when he did so, and he glanced round the bar, snorted at
the thick atmosphere of alcohol and smoke, then pulled out his pipe and
took a vacant chair.

"Gude evenin', Will," said Mr. Chapple.

"A happy New Year, Blanchard," added the landlord.

"Evening, sawls all," answered Will, nodding round him. "Auld year's
like to die o' frost by the looks of it--a stinger, I tell 'e. Anybody
seen Farmer Endicott? I've been looking for un since noon wi' a message
from my faither-in-law."

"I gived thicky message this marnin'," cried Billy.

"Ess, I knaw you did; that's my trouble. You gived it wrong. I'll just
have a pint of the treble X then. 'T is the night for 't."

Will's demeanour belied the recent conversation respecting him. He
appeared to be in great spirits, joked with the men, exchanged shafts
with Billy, and was the first to roar with laughter when Mr. Blee got
the better of him in a brisk battle of repartee. Truth to tell, the
young man's heart felt somewhat lighter, and with reason. To-morrow his
promise to Phoebe held him no longer, and his carking, maddening trial
of patience was to end. The load would drop from his shoulders at
daylight. His letter to Mr. Lyddon had been written; in the morning the
miller must read it before breakfast, and learn that his son-in-law had
started for Plymouth to give himself up for the crime of the past. John
Grimbal had made no sign, and the act of surrender would now be
voluntary--a thought which lightened Blanchard's heart and induced a
turn of temper almost jovial. He joined a chorus, laughed with the
loudest, and contrived before closing time to drink a pint and a half of
the famous special brew. Then the bell-ringers departed to their duties,
and Mr. Chapple with Mr. Blee, Will, and one or two other favoured
spirits spent a further half-hour in their host's private parlour, and
there consumed a little sloe gin, to steady the humming ale.

"You an' me must see wan another home," said Will when he and