k all of us believed that
the humour of Louis, execrable as it had been, was the effect of the
insinuations of a wicked man, and that after a time he would be restored
to us again the simple, pleasant-faced boy he had been in former years.

He did not come down to tea, but then he seldom did so. Indeed, none of
the men-folk except myself had taken to the habit, and I (as I say)
chiefly for the sake of the talk, which sharpened my wits and refreshed
my working vocabulary. But as I passed back to my writing-den I could
hear my brother-in-law moving restlessly about his room, and talking to
himself, which was a recently-acquired habit of his. However, I took
this as a good sign. Anything in the way of occupation was better than
his former chill indifference to all that went forward about
Heathknowes.

It was, as it chanced, a busy day at the pirn-mill. The labours of the
farm being fairly over for the year, the mill had been shut down for
hasty repairs, which Alec McQuhirr had come down from Ironmacannie to
superintend. He was, so they said, the best mill-wright in the
half-dozen counties of the south and west. He had, however, the one
fault common to all his tribe, that of dilatoriness. So my grandfather,
who had his "pirn" contracts to be shipped for England on certain days,
used to call his sons about him, and devote himself and all of them to
the service of repairing. Boyd Connoway, also, usually gave us the
benefit of his universal genius for advice, and, when he chose, for
handiness also.

After tea some provisions had been carried to the mill by my mother on
her way home. "One of the boys"--meaning my uncles--was to bring back
the basket.

That night, also, supper was somewhat later than usual. Up in the mill
men were still crawling about along the machinery with carefully
protected lanterns. Buckets of water stood handy. For a pirn-mill is no
place in which to play with fire. The sound of male voices and the thud
of wooden mallets did not cease till long after dark. Supper was,
therefore, later than usual, and the moon had risen before the sound of
their footsteps was heard coming down among the tree-roots in the
clearing which they themselves had made. The kitchen, which was also the
living-room of Heathknowes, glowed bright, and the supper-table was
a-laying. Aunt Jen bustled about. I had laid aside my writing, satisfied
with a goodly tale of sheets to my credit. My grandmother was in the
milk-house, but eve