the hills and plantations. He
was a frank, pleasant-looking gentleman, but far too grand and high for
Stephen to address, though he gazed wistfully at him whenever he chanced
to meet him on the hills. One afternoon Martha saw him and the master
walking towards Fern's Hollow, where the fencing-in of the green and of
the coppice behind the hut were being finished rapidly; and she crept
with stealthy steps under the hedge of the garden, until she came within
earshot of them; but they were just moving on, and all she heard of the
conversation were these words, from the lord of the manor: 'You shall
have it at any rate you fix, Wyley--at a peppercorn rent, if you please;
but I will not sell a square yard of my land out and out.' How Martha and
Stephen did talk about those words over and over again, and could never
come to any conclusion about them.

It was about noon on Michaelmas Day, a day which was of no note up at
Fern's Hollow, where there was no rent to be paid, and Martha was busily
hanging out clothes to dry on the gorse bushes before the house, when she
saw a troop of labourers coming over the brow of the hill and crossing
the newly-enclosed pasture. They were armed with mattocks and pickaxes;
but as the peaceful little cottage rose before them, with blind old Fern
basking in the warm sunshine, and little Nan playing quietly about the
door-sill, the men gathered into a little knot, and stood still with an
irresolute and ashamed aspect.

'They know nothing about it,' said William Morris; 'look at them, as
easy and unconcerned as lambs. I was afeared there'd be a upshot, when
the master were after old Fern so long. I don't half like the job; and
Stephen isn't here. He does look a bit like a man, and we could argy with
him; but that old man, and that girl--they'll take on so.'

'I say, Martha,' shouted a bolder-hearted man, 'hasn't the master let
thee know thee must turn out to-day? He wants to lay the foundation of a
new house, and get the walls up afore the frost comes on; and we are come
to pick the old place to the ground. He only told us an hour ago, or we'd
have seen thee was ready.'

'I don't believe thee; thee's only romancing,' said Martha, turning very
pale. 'The old place is our own, and no master has any right to it, save
Stephen.'

'It's no use wasting breath,' replied William Morris. 'The master says
he's bought the place from thy grandfather, lass; and he agreed to turn
out by noon on Michaelmas Da