'ssense
of
justice
warned
her
that
this
could
not
be
.
She
had
taken
her
own
mighty
grief
to
the
little
parsonage
at
Sancreed
,
and
a
kindly
counselor
,
who
knew
sorrow
at
first
hand
,
helped
her
upon
the
road
that
henceforth
looked
so
lonely
and
so
long
;
but
this
present
trial
,
though
it
tore
the
old
wounds
open
,
must
be
borne
alone
.
She
saw
as
much
,
and
turned
and
went
upstairs
again
to
her
chamber
.
"
Think
of
her
kindly
,
"
said
Uncle
Chirgwin
as
Mary
left
him
without
more
words
.
"
She
'm
so
young
an
'
ignorant
o
'
the
gert
world
,
Polly
.
An
'
if
the
worst
falls
,
which
God
forbid
,
'
tis
her
as
'll
suffer
most
,
not
we
.
"
"
Us
have
all
got
to
suffer
an
'
suffer
this
side
our
graaves
,
"
she
said
,
mounting
wearily
.
"
So
young
an
'
purty
as
she
be
—
the
moral
o
'
her
mother
.
I
doa
n't
knaw
—
'
tis
sich
a
wonnerful
world
—
but
them
blue
eyes
—
them
round
blue
eyes
could
n't
do
a
thing
as
was
wrong
afore
God
as
wan
might
fancy
,
"
he
said
aloud
,
not
knowing
she
was
out
of
earshot
.
Then
he
heaved
a
sigh
,
returned
to
the
kitchen
,
and
presently
departed
to
the
fields
.
CHAPTER
EIGHT
WAITING
FOR
"
MISTER
JAN
"
With
searching
of
heart
,
Mary
Chirgwin
spent
time
during
that
afternoon
.
In
one
room
Joan
,
happier
than
she
had
been
for
many
days
,
set
out
her
few
possessions
,
boldly
hung
the
picture
of
Joe
Noy
's
ship
upon
the
wall
and
gazed
at
it
with
affection
,
for
it
spoke
of
the
painter
,
not
the
sailor
,
to
her
;
while
,
in
a
chamber
hard
by
,
Mary
solved
the
problem
of
the
day
,
coming
at
her
conclusion
with
great
struggle
of
mind
and
clashing
of
arguments
.
She
resolved
at
last
to
abide
at
Drift
with
her
uncle
and
with
Joan
.
The
reason
for
those
events
now
crowding
upon
her
life
was
hidden
from
her
;
and
why
Providence
saw
fit
to
awaken
or
mightily
intensify
the
sorrows
which
time
was
lulling
to
sleep
,
she
could
not
divine
.
She
accepted
her
position
,
none
the
less
,
doubted
nothing
but
that
the
secret
hidden
in
these
matters
would
some
day
be
explained
,
and
,
according
to
her
custom
before
the
approach
of
all
mundane
events
and
circumstances
affecting
herself
,
viewed
the
present
trial
as
heaven-sent
to
purify
and
strengthen
.
So
your
religious
egotists
are
ever
wont
to
read
into
the
great
waves
of
chance
,
as
here
and
there
a
ripple
from
them
sets
their
own
little
vessels
shaking
,
as
here
and
there
some
splash
of
foam
,
a
puff
of
wind
,
strikes
the
nutshell
which
floats
their
lives
,
a
personal
,
deliberate
intervention
,
an
event
designed
by
the
Everlasting
to
test
their
powers
,
ripen
their
characters
,
equip
their
souls
for
an
eternity
of
satisfaction
.
At
tea
time
the
cousins
met
again
,
and
Uncle
Chirgwin
,
returning
from
his
affairs
,
was
rejoiced
to
learn
Mary
's
decision
.
No
outward
sign
marked
her
struggle
.
She
was
calm
,
even
stately
,
with
a
natural
distinction
which
physically
appeared
in
her
bearing
and
carriage
.
She
chilled
Joan
a
little
,
but
not
with
intention
.
Yet
Joan
was
bold
for
her
love
and
spoke
no
less
than
the
truth
when
she
asserted
that
she
viewed
her
position
without
shame
and
without
remorse
.
She
spoke
of
it
openly
,
fearlessly
,
and
kept
Uncle
Chirgwin
on
thorns
between
the
cold
silence
of
his
elder
niece
and
the
garrulous
chatter
of
the
younger
.
The
saint
was
so
stern
,
the
sinner
so
happy
and
so
perfectly
impressed
with
her
own
innocence
,
which
latter
fact
Mary
too
saw
clearly
;
and
it
instantly
solved
half
the
problem
in
her
mind
.
Joan
had
obviously
been
sent
to
Drift
that
the
truth
might
reach
her
heart
.
She
came
a
heathen
from
the
outer
darkness
of
sin
,
with
vain
babbling
on
her
lips
and
a
mind
empty
.
She
called
herself
"
Nature
's
child
"
and
the
theatric
thunders
of
Luke
Gospeldom
had
never
taught
her
that
she
was
God
's
.
Here
,
then
,
was
one
to
be
brought
into
the
fold
with
all
possible
dispatch
,
and
Mary
,
who
loved
religious
battle
,
braced
herself
to
the
task
while
silently
listening
to
Joan
,
that
she
might
the
better
learn
what
manner
of
spiritual
attack
would
best
meet
this
sorry
case
.
Uncle
Chirgwin
took
charge
of
his
niece
's
bank-notes
,
and
,
after
some
persuasion
,
consented
to
accept
the
weekly
sum
of
three
shillings
and
sixpence
from
Joan
.
He
made
many
objections
to
any
such
arrangement
,
but
the
girl
overruled
them
,
declaring
absolutely
that
she
would
not
stop
at
Drift
,
even
until
her
future
husband
's
return
,
unless
the
payment
of
money
was
accepted
from
her
.
It
bred
a
secret
joy
in
Joan
to
feel
that
"
Mister
Jan
's
"
wealth
now
enabled
her
to
enjoy
an
independence
which
even
Mary
could
not
share
.
She
much
desired
to
give
more
money
,
but
Uncle
Chirgwin
reduced
the
sum
to
three
shillings
and
sixpence
weekly
and
would
take
no
more
.
This
wealth
was
viewed
with
very
considerable
loathing
by
Mary
Chirgwin
,
and
she
criticised
her
uncle
's
decision
unfavorably
;
but
he
accepted
the
owner
's
view
,
arguing
that
it
was
only
justice
to
all
parties
so
to
do
,
until
facts
proved
whether
Joan
was
mistaken
.
The
notes
did
not
cause
him
uneasiness
—
at
any
rate
during
this
stage
of
affairs
—
and
he
took
them
to
Penzance
upon
the
occasion
of
his
next
visit
.
Mr.
Chirgwin
's
lawyer
saw
to
the
safe
bestowal
of
the
money
;
and
when
she
heard
that
her
nine
hundred
pounds
would
produce
about
five-and-twenty
every
year
and
yet
not
decrease
the
while
,
Joan
was
much
astonished
.
Meantime
John
Barren
neither
came
to
fetch
her
,
nor
sent
any
writing
to
tell
of
the
causes
for
his
delay
.
The
girl
was
fruitful
of
new
reasons
for
his
silence
,
and
then
grew
a
black
fear
which
answered
all
doubts
and
,
by
its
reasonableness
,
terrified
her
.
Perhaps
"
Mister
Jan
"
was
ill
—
too
ill
even
to
write
.
He
had
but
little
strength
—
that
she
knew
,
and
few
friends
—
of
that
Joan
was
also
aware
,
for
he
had
told
her
so
.
Yet
,
surely
,
there
were
those
,
if
only
his
servants
,
who
might
have
written
to
bid
her
hasten
.
A
line
—
a
single
word
—
and
she
would
get
into
the
train
and
stop
in
it
until
she
saw
"
London
"
written
on
a
board
at
a
station
.
Then
she
would
leap
out
and
find
him
and
get
to
his
heart
and
warm
it
and
kiss
life
back
to
his
body
,
light
to
his
loved
gray
eyes
.
So
thinking
,
time
dragged
,
and
as
the
novelty
of
the
new
life
abated
,
and
wore
thin
,
Joan
's
spirits
wavered
until
long
and
longer
intervals
of
gloomy
sadness
marked
the
duration
of
each
day
for
her
.
But
she
was
young
,
and
hope
yet
held
revels
in
her
heart
when
the
mood
favored
,
when
the
wind
was
soft
,
the
sun
bright
,
and
Mother
Nature
seemed
close
and
kind
,
as
often
happened
.
Joan
worked
too
,
helping
Mary
and
the
maids
,
but
after
a
wayward
manner
of
her
own
.
There
was
no
counting
upon
her
and
she
loved
better
to
be
with
her
uncle
,
abroad
upon
the
land
,
or
by
herself
,
hidden
in
the
orchard
,
in
the
fruit
garden
,
or
in
the
secret
places
of
the
coomb
.
She
had
her
favorite
spots
,
for
as
yet
that
great
,
overwhelming
regard
for
the
old
stone
crosses
,
which
came
to
her
afterward
,
had
not
grown
into
a
live
passion
.
Her
present
pilgrimages
were
short
,
her
shrines
those
of
Nature
's
building
.
Much
she
loved
the
arm
of
an
ancient
apple-tree
hid
in
the
very
heart
of
the
orchard
.
A
great
gnarled
limb
bent
abruptly
out
,
grew
long
and
low
,
and
was
propped
at
a
distance
of
three
yards
from
the
parent
tree
.
Midway
between
the
stem
and
support
,
a
crooked
elbow
of
the
bough
made
a
pleasant
seat
for
Joan
;
and
here
,
when
life
at
the
farm
looked
more
gray
than
common
,
she
came
and
sometimes
sat
long
hours
.
Her
perch
raised
her
above
a
velvet
scented
sea
of
wall-flowers
which
ran
in
regular
waves
beneath
the
apple-trees
,
under
murmuring
of
many
bees
.
The
blossom
above
Joan
's
head
was
all
a
lacework
of
sunny
rose
and
cream
;
and
the
sun
painted
glorious
russet
harmonies
below
,
glinted
magically
in
the
green
and
white
above
,
turned
the
gray
lichens
,
which
clustered
on
the
weather
side
of
the
trunks
and
boughs
,
to
silver
.
The
glory
of
life
here
always
heartened
Joan
.
She
felt
the
immortality
of
Nature
,
who
,
from
naked
earth
and
barren
boughs
,
thus
at
the
sun
's
smile
splendidly
awakened
,
and
teemed
and
overflowed
with
bewildering
,
inexhaustible
luxuriance
.
Nor
seldom
this
aspect
of
her
Mother
's
infinite
wealth
touched
her
blood
,
and
a
strange
sensation
as
of
very
lust
of
life
made
her
wild
.
At
such
times
she
would
pick
the
green
things
and
tear
them
and
watch
the
colorless
life
ooze
from
their
wounds
;
she
would
gather
blossoms
and
scatter
them
against
the
wind
,
break
buds
open
and
pluck
their
hearts
out
,
fill
her
mouth
with
sorrel
and
young
grass-shoots
,
and
feel
the
cool
saps
of
them
upon
her
palate
.
And
sometimes
her
Mother
frightened
her
,
for
the
dim
clouds
hid
beneath
the
horizon
of
maternity
were
moving
now
and
their
color
was
dark
.
Nature
had
as
many
moods
as
Joan
and
often
looked
distant
and
terrible
.
Poor
little
blue-eyed
"
sister
of
the
sun
and
moon
!
"
She
likened
herself
so
bravely
to
the
other
children
of
her
Mother
—
to
the
stars
,
to
the
fair
birch-trees
,
where
emerald
showers
now
twinkled
down
over
the
silver
stems
,
to
the
uncurling
fronds
of
the
fern
,
to
the
little
trout
in
the
coomb-stream
;
and
yet
she
was
not
content
as
they
were
.
"
Her
's
good
,
so
good
,
but
oh
!
if
her
was
a
bit
nigher
—
if
I
could
sit
in
her
lap
an
'
feel
her
arms
around
me
an
'
thread
the
daisies
into
chains
like
when
I
was
a
lil
maid
!
But
I
be
a
grawed
wummon
now
—
an
'
yet
caa
n't
feel
it
so
—
not
yet
.
Her
'll
hold
my
hand
,
maybe
,
an
'
lead
me
'
pon
the
road
past
pain
an
'
sorrow
.
I
can
trust
her
,
'
cause
Mister
Jan
did
say
as
Nature
never
lies
—
never
.
"
So
the
child
's
thoughts
wandered
on
a
day
when
she
sat
upon
the
bough
and
brought
a
shower
of
pale
petals
down
with
every
movement
.
But
as
yet
only
the
shadows
of
shadows
clouded
her
thoughts
when
she
thought
about
herself
.
It
was
the
loneliness
brought
real
care
—
the
loneliness
and
the
waiting
.
She
spent
time
,
too
,
in
Uncle
Chirgwin
's
old
walled
garden
.
This
place
and
its
products
went
for
little
in
the
traffic
of
the
farm
,
though
every
year
its
owner
was
wont
to
count
upon
certain
few
baskets
of
choice
fruit
as
an
addition
to
his
income
,
and
every
year
his
hopes
were
blighted
.
For
the
walls
whereon
his
peaches
and
nectarines
grew
had
stood
through
generations
,
their
red
brick
work
was
much
fretted
by
time
,
and
the
interstices
between
the
bricks
made
snug
homes
for
a
variety
of
insects
.
Joan
once
listened
to
her
uncle
upon
this
subject
,
and
henceforth
chose
to
make
his
scanty
fruit
her
special
care
.
"
'
Tis
like
this
,
"
he
explained
,
"
an
'
specially
wi
'
the
necter'ns
.
The
moment
they
graws
a
shade
,
an
'
long
afore
they
stone
,
them
dratted
lil
auld
sow-pigs
[
Footnote
:
Sow-pigs
—
Woodlice
.
]
falls
'
pon
'
em
cruel
.
Then
they
waits
theer
time
till
the
ripenin
'
,
an
'
,
blame
me
,
but
the
varmints
do
allus
knaw
just
a
day
'
fore
I
does
,
when
things
be
ready
,
an
'
they
eats
the
peaches
an
'
necter'ns
by
night
,
gouging
'
em
shameful
,
same
as
if
you
'd
done
it
wi
'
your
nails
.
'
Tis
a
terrible
coorious
wall
for
sow-pigs
,
likewise
for
snails
;
an
'
I
be
allus
a
gwaine
to
have
en
repaired
an
'
pinted
,
but
yet
somehow
'
tedn
'
done
.
But
your
sharp
eyes
'll
be
a
sight
o
'
use
wi
'
creepin
'
things
.
'
Tis
a
reg'lar
Noah
's
Ark
o
'
a
wall
,
to
be
sure
;
not
but
what
I
lay
theer
's
five
pound
worth
o
'
stone
fruit
'
pon
it
most
years
if
'
twas
let
bide
.
"
Joan
enjoyed
watching
the
peaches
grow
.
First
they
peeped
like
pearls
from
the
dried
frills
of
their
blossoms
;
then
they
expanded
and
cast
off
the
encumbrance
of
dead
petals
and
nestled
against
the
red
bricks
that
sucked
up
sunshine
and
held
it
for
them
when
the
sun
had
gone
.
She
found
the
garden
wall
was
a
whole
busy
world
,
and
,
taught
by
her
vanished
master
,
she
took
interest
in
all
that
dwelt
thereon
.
But
the
snails
and
woodlice
she
slew
ruthlessly
that
her
uncle
might
presently
come
by
his
five
pounds
'
value
of
fruit
.
Mary
Chirgwin
speedily
discovered
the
task
of
reforming
her
cousin
was
like
to
be
lengthy
and
arduous
.
There
appeared
no
foundations
upon
which
to
work
,
and
while
the
certainty
of
Barron
's
return
still
remained
with
Joan
as
a
vital
guide
to
conduct
,
no
other
gospel
than
that
which
he
had
taught
found
her
a
listener
.
She
refused
to
go
to
church
,
to
Mary
's
chagrin
and
Uncle
Chirgwin
's
sorrow
;
but
he
explained
the
matter
correctly
and
indeed
found
a
clew
to
most
of
Joan
's
actions
at
this
season
.
Mary
saw
the
old
man
's
growing
love
for
the
new
arrival
,
and
a
smaller
mind
might
have
sunk
to
jealousy
quickly
enough
under
such
circumstances
,
but
she
,
deeply
concerned
with
Joan
's
eternal
welfare
,
rose
above
temporary
details
,
At
the
same
time
her
uncle
's
mild
and
tolerant
attitude
caused
her
pain
.
"
As
to
church-gwaine
,
"
he
said
,
on
a
Sunday
morning
when
he
and
his
elder
niece
had
driven
off
to
Sancreed
as
usual
,
leaving
Joan
in
the
orchard
;
"
she
've
larned
to
look
'
pon
it
from
a
Luke
Gosp'ler
's
pint
o
'
view
.
Doa
n't
you
fret
,
Polly
.
Let
her
bide
.
'
Twill
come
o
'
itself
bimebye
wan
o
'
these
Sundays
.
Poor
tiby
lamb
!
Christ
's
a
watchin
'
of
her
,
Polly
.
An
'
if
this
here
gen'leman
,
by
the
name
o
'
Mister
Jan
,
doa
n't
come
—
"
"
You
make
me
daft
!
"
she
interrupted
,
with
impatience
.
"
D'you
mean
as
you
ever
thot
he
would
?
"
"
I
hopes
.
Theer
's
sich
a
'
mazin
'
deal
o
'
good
in
human
nature
.
Mayhap
he
'm
wraslin
'
wi
'
his
sawl
to
this
hour
.
An
'
the
Lard
do
allus
fight
'
pon
the
side
o
'
conscience
.
Iss
fay
!
Some
'
ow
I
do
think
as
he
'll
come
.
"
Mary
said
no
more
.
She
was
quite
positive
that
her
cousin
and
her
uncle
were
alike
mistaken
;
but
she
saw
that
,
until
the
hard
truth
forced
itself
upon
Joan
,
the
girl
would
go
her
present
way
.
It
was
not
that
Joan
lacked
goodness
and
sweetness
,
but
,
in
Mary
's
opinion
,
she
took
an
obstinate
and
wrong-headed
course
upon
the
one
vital
subject
of
her
own
salvation
.
Mary
fought
with
herself
to
love
Joan
,
and
the
battle
now
was
only
hard
when
Joe
Noy
came
within
the
scope
of
her
thoughts
.
She
banished
him
as
much
as
she
could
,
but
it
never
grew
easy
,
and
the
complex
problems
bred
of
reflections
on
this
theme
maddened
her
.
For
she
had
always
loved
him
,
and
that
affection
,
thrust
away
as
deadly-sin
,
when
he
left
her
for
another
,
could
not
be
wholly
strangled
now
.
Time
hung
heavily
and
more
heavily
with
Joan
at
Drift
.
A
fortnight
passed
;
but
the
hope
of
the
ignorant
and
trustful
dies
very
hard
and
the
faith
which
is
bred
of
absolute
love
has
a
hundred
lives
.
The
girl
walked
into
Penzance
every
second
day
,
and
hope
blazed
brightly
on
the
road
to
the
post-office
,
then
sank
a
little
deeper
into
the
hidden
places
of
her
heart
as
she
plodded
empty-handed
back
to
Drift
.
Slowly
,
and
so
gradually
that
she
herself
knew
it
not
,
her
thoughts
grew
something
less
occupied
with
John
Barren
,
something
more
concerned
about
herself
.
For
the
world
was
full
of
happy
mothers
now
.
One
"
Brindle
"
—
a
knot-cow
of
repute
—
dropped
a
fine
bull-calf
in
a
croft
hard
by
the
orchard
,
and
Joan
looked
into
"
Brindle
's
"
solemn
eyes
after
the
event
,
and
learned
.
She
marveled
to
see
the
little
brown
calf
stand
on
his
shaking
legs
within
an
hour
of
his
birth
;
then
his
mother
licked
him
lovingly
,
while
Uncle
Chirgwin
himself
drew
off
her
"
buzzy
milk
.
"
There
was
another
mother
in
a
disused
pigsty
.
There
Joan
found
a
red
and
white
tortoise-shell
cat
with
four
blind
,
squeaking
atoms
beside
her
,
and
as
the
cat
rolled
over
and
the
atoms
sucked
life
,
Joan
saw
her
shining
eyes
,
afore-time
so
bright
and
hard
,
full
of
a
new
strange
light
,
like
the
cloud
that
glimmers
over
the
fires
of
an
opal
.
The
cat
's
green
orbs
were
full
of
mystery
:
of
pain
past
,
of
joy
present
.
So
again
Joan
learned
.
But
a
black
tragedy
blotted
out
that
little
happy
family
in
the
pigsty
,
and
Death
,
in
the
shape
of
Amos
Bartlett
,
Mr.
Chirgwin
's
head
man
,
fell
upon
them
.
Then
the
farmer
learned
that
his
niece
could
be
angry
.
One
morning
Joan
found
the
mother
cat
running
wildly
here
and
there
,
with
a
world
of
misery
in
its
cry
;
while
a
moment
afterward
she
came
upon
the
kittens
in
a
duck
pond
.
Mr.
Bartlett
was
present
and
explained
.
"
Them
chets
had
to
gaw
,
missy
.
'
Tis
a
auld
word
an
'
it
ba
n't
wise
to
take
no
count
of
sayings
like
that
.
'
May
chets
bad
luck
begets
.
'
You
've
heard
tell
o
'
that
?
Never
let
live
no
kittens
born
in
May
.
They
theer
dead
chets
comed
May
Day
.
"
"
You
'm
a
cruel
devil
!
"
she
said
hotly
;
"
how
'd
you
like
for
your
two
lil
children
to
be
thrawed
in
the
water
,
May
or
no
May
?
Look
at
thicky
cat
,
breakin
'
her
heart
,
poor
twoad
!
"
Mr.
Bartlett
was
justly
angry
that
Joan
could
dare
to
thus
class
his
priceless
red-headed
twins
with
a
litter
of
dead
kittens
,
and
he
said
more
than
was
wise
,
ramming
home
a
truth
,
and
that
coarsely
.
"
Theer
's
plenty
more
wheer
them
comed
from
,
I
lay
.
Nachur
's
so
free
,
you
see
—
tu
free
like
sometimes
.
Ba
n't
no
dearth
o
'
chets
or
childern
as
I
've
heard
on
.
They
comes
unaxed
,
an
'
unwanted
tu
.
You
might
a
heard
tell
o
'
some
sich
p'raps
?
"
She
blushed
and
shook
with
passion
at
this
sudden
new
aspect
of
affairs
.
Here
was
a
standpoint
from
which
nobody
had
viewed
her
before
.
Worse
—
far
worse
than
her
father
's
rage
or
Uncle
Chirgwin
's
tears
was
this
.
Amos
Bartlett
represented
the
world
's
attitude
.
The
world
would
not
be
angry
with
her
,
or
cry
for
her
;
it
would
merely
laugh
and
pass
on
,
like
Mr.
Bartlett
.
So
Joan
learned
yet
again
;
and
the
new
knowledge
cowed
her
for
full
eight-and-forty
hours
.
But
the
eyes
of
the
mothers
had
taught
Joan
something
of
the
secret
of
pain
,
and
a
thread
of
gravity
ran
henceforth
through
all
thoughts
concerning
the
future
.
She
much
marveled
that
"
Mister
Jan
"
had
never
touched
upon
this
leaf
in
the
book
.
Beauty
was
what
he
invariably
talked
about
,
and
he
found
beauty
hidden
in
many
a
strange
matter
too
;
but
not
in
pain
.
That
was
because
he
suffered
himself
sometimes
,
Joan
suspected
.
And
yet
,
to
her
,
pain
,
though
she
had
never
felt
it
,
seemed
not
wholly
hideous
.
She
surprised
herself
mightily
by
the
depth
of
her
own
thoughts
now
.
She
seemed
to
stand
upon
the
brink
of
deep
matters
guessing
dimly
at
things
hidden
.
Then
her
moods
would
break
again
from
the
clouds
to
brightness
.
Hot
sunshine
on
her
cheek
always
raised
her
young
spirits
,
and
her
health
,
now
excellent
,
threw
joy
into
life
despite
the
ever-present
anxiety
.
Then
came
a
meeting
which
roused
interest
and
brought
very
genuine
delight
with
it
.
It
happened
upon
a
fine
Sunday
afternoon
,
when
Joan
was
walking
through
the
fields
on
the
farm
—
those
which
extended
southward
—
that
she
reached
a
stile
where
granite
blocks
lay
lengthwise
,
like
the
rungs
of
a
ladder
,
between
two
uprights
.
Here
she
stopped
a
while
,
and
sat
her
down
,
and
looked
out
over
the
promise
of
fine
hay
.
The
undulating
green
expanse
was
studded
with
the
black
knobs
of
ribwort
plantain
and
gemmed
with
buttercups
,
which
here
were
dotted
like
sparks
of
fire
,
here
massed
in
broad
bunches
and
splashes
of
color
.
The
wind
swept
over
the
field
,
and
its
course
was
marked
by
sudden
flecks
and
ripples
of
transient
sheeny
light
,
paler
and
brighter
than
the
mass
of
the
herbage
.
Then
a
figure
appeared
afar
off
,
following
the
course
of
the
footpath
where
it
wound
through
the
gold
of
the
flowers
and
the
silver
of
the
bending
grasses
.
It
approached
,
resolved
itself
into
a
fisher-boy
and
presently
proved
to
be
Tom
Tregenza
.
Joan
ran
forward
to
meet
him
as
soon
as
the
short
figure
,
with
its
exaggerated
nautical
roll
,
became
known
to
her
.
She
kissed
her
half-brother
warmly
,
and
he
hugged
her
and
showed
great
delight
at
the
meeting
,
for
he
loved
Joan
well
.
"
I
've
stealed
away
,
'
cause
I
was
just
burstin
'
to
get
sight
of
'
e
again
,
Joan
.
Faither
's
home
an
'
I
comed
off
for
a
walk
,
creepin
'
round
here
an
'
hopin
'
as
we
'd
meet
.
'
Tis
mighty
wisht
to
home
now
you
'm
gone
,
I
can
tell
'
e
.
I
've
got
a
sore
head
yet
along
o
'
you
.
"
"
G'wan
,
bwoy
!
Why
should
'
e
?
"
"
Iss
so
.
'
Twas
like
this
.
When
us
comed
back
from
sea
wan
mornin
'
a
week
arter
you
'd
gone
I
ups
an
'
sez
,
'
'
Tis
'
bout
as
lively
as
bad
feesh
ashore
now
Joan
ba
n't
here
.
'
I
dedn
'
knaw
faither
was
in
the
doorway
when
I
said
it
,
'
cause
he
'd
give
out
you
was
never
to
be
named
no
more
.
But
mother
seed
en
an
'
sez
to
me
,
'
Shut
your
mouth
.
'
An
'
,
not
knawin
'
faither
was
be'ind
me
,
I
ups
agin
an
'
sez
,
'
Why
caa
n't
I
,
as
be
her
awn
brother
,
see
Joan
anyway
an
'
hear
tell
what
'
tis
she
've
done
?
I
lay
as
it
ba
n't
no
mighty
harm
neither
,
'
cause
Joan
's
true
Tregenza
!
'
"
"
Good
Lard
!
An
'
faither
heard
'
e
?
"
"
Iss
,
an
'
next
minute
I
knawed
it
.
He
blazed
an
'
roared
,
an
'
comed
over
an
'
bummed
my
head
'
pon
the
earhole
—
a
buster
as
might
'
a
'
killed
some
lads
.
My
ivers
!
I
seed
stars
'
nough
to
fill
a
new
sky
,
Joan
,
an
'
I
went
down
tail
over
nose
.
I
doubt
theer
's
nobody
in
Newlyn
what
can
hit
like
faither
.
But
I
got
up
agin
an
'
sot
mighty
still
,
an
'
faither
sez
,
'
She
as
was
here
ba
n't
no
Tregenza
,
nor
my
darter
,
nor
nothin
'
to
none
under
my
hellings
[
Footnote
:
Hellings
—
Roof
.
]
no
more
—
never
more
,
mark
that
.
'
Then
mother
thrawed
her
apern
over
her
faace
an
'
hollered
,
'
cause
I
'd
got
such
a
welt
,
an
'
faither
walked
out
in
the
garden
.
I
was
for
axin
'
mother
then
,
but
reckoned
not
for
fear
as
he
might
be
listenin
'
agin
.
But
I
knawed
you
was
up
Drift
,
'
cause
I
heard
mother
say
that
much
;
an
'
now
I
've
sot
eyes
on
you
agin
;
an
'
I
knaw
you
'll
tell
me
what
's
wrong
wi
'
you
;
an
'
if
I
can
do
anything
for
'
e
I
will
,
sink
or
swim
.
"
"
Faither
's
a
cruel
beast
,
an
'
he
'll
come
to
a
bad
end
,
Tom
,
'
spite
of
they
Gosp'lers
.
He
'm
all
wrong
an
'
doa
n't
knaw
nothin
'
'
tall
'
bout
God
.
I
do
knaw
what
I
knaw
.
Theer
's
more
o
'
God
in
that
gert
shine
o
'
buttercups
'
pon
the
grass
than
in
all
them
whey-faced
chapel
folks
put
together
.
"
"
My
stars
,
Joan
!
"
"
'
Tis
truth
,
an
'
you
'll
find
'
tis
some
day
,
same
as
what
I
have
.
"
"
I
doa
n't
see
how
any
lad
be
gwaine
to
make
heaven
myself
,
"
said
Tom
gloomily
.
"
Us
had
a
mining
cap'n
from
Camborne
preach
this
marnin
'
,
an
'
,
by
Gollies
!
'
tweer
like
sittin
'
tu
near
a
gert
red'ot
fire
.
Her
rubbed
it
in
,
I
tell
'
e
,
same
as
you
rubs
salt
into
a
hake
.
Faither
said
'
twas
braave
talk
.
But
you
,
Joan
,
what
's
wrong
with
'
e
,
what
have
you
done
?
"
"
I
ai
n't
done
no
wrong
,
Tom
,
an
'
you
can
take
my
word
for't
.
"
"
Do
'
e
reckon
you
'm
damned
,
like
what
faither
sez
?
"
"
Never
!
I
doa
n't
care
a
grain
o
'
wheat
what
faither
sez
.
What
I
done
weer
n't
no
sin
,
'
cause
him
,
as
be
wiser
an
'
cleverer
an
'
better
every
way
than
any
man
in
Carnwall
,
said
'
tweer
n't
;
an
'
he
knawed
.
I
've
heard
wise
things
said
,
an
'
I
've
minded
some
an
'
forgot
others
.
None
can
damn
folks
but
God
,
when
all
's
done
,
an
'
He
's
the
last
as
would
;
for
God
do
love
even
the
creeping
,
gashly
worms
under
a
turned
stone
tu
well
to
damn
'
em
.
Much
more
humans
.
I
be
a
Nature
's
cheel
an
'
doa
n't
b'lieve
in
no
devil
an
'
no
hell-fire
'
tall
.
"
"
I
wish
I
was
a
Nachur
's
cheel
then
.
"
Joan
flung
down
a
little
bouquet
of
starry
stitchworts
she
had
gathered
upon
the
way
and
turned
very
earnestly
to
Tom
.
"
You
be
,
you
be
a
Nature
's
cheel
.
Us
all
be
,
but
awnly
a
few
knaws
it
.
"
Tom
laughed
at
this
idea
mightily
.
"
Well
,
I
'll
slip
back
long
,
Joan
;
an
'
if
I
be
a
Nachur
's
cheel
,
I
be
;
but
I
guess
I
'll
keep
it
a
secret
.
If
I
tawld
faither
as
I
dedn
'
b'lieve
in
no
auld
devil
,
I
guess
he
'd
hurry
me
into
next
world
so
's
I
might
see
for
myself
theer
was
wan
.
"
They
walked
a
little
way
together
.
Then
Tom
grew
frightened
and
stopped
his
companion
.
"
Guess
you
'd
best
to
be
turnin
'
.
Folks
is
'
bout
everywheer
in
the
fields
,
bein
'
Sunday
,
an
'
if
it
got
back
to
faither
as
I
'd
seed
you
,
he
'd
make
me
hop
.
"
"
D'you
like
the
sea
still
,
Tom
?
"
"
Doa
n't
I
just
!
Better'n
better
;
an
'
I
be
grawin
'
smart
,
'
cause
I
heard
faither
tell
mother
so
when
I
was
in
the
wash'ouse
an
'
they
thot
I
was
n't
.
Faither
said
as
I
'd
got
a
hawk
's
eye
for
moorin
's
or
what
not
.
An
'
I
licked
the
bwoy
on
Pratt
's
bwoat
a
fortnight
agone
.
A
lot
o
'
men
seed
me
do't
.
I
hopes
I
'll
hit
so
hard
as
faither
hisself
wan
day
,
when
I
'm
grawed
.
Good-by
,
sister
Joan
.
I
'll
see
'
e
agin
when
I
can
,
an
'
bring
up
a
feesh
maybe
.
Doa
n't
say
nothin
'
'
bout
me
to
them
at
the
farm
,
else
it
may
get
back
.
"
So
Tom
marched
off
,
speculating
as
to
what
particular
lie
would
best
meet
the
case
if
cross-questioning
awaited
him
on
his
return
,
and
Joan
watched
the
thickset
little
figure
very
lovingly
until
it
was
out
of
sight
.
CHAPTER
NINE
MEADOWSWEETS
June
came
.
The
wall-flowers
were
long
plucked
or
dead
,
the
last
snows
of
apple-blossom
had
vanished
away
,
and
the
fruit
was
setting
well
.
The
woodlice
were
already
ruining
the
young
nectarines
.
"
They
spiles
'
em
in
the
growth
an
'
scores
'
em
wi
'
their
wicked
lil
teeth
,
then
,
come
August
an
'
they
ripens
,
they
'll
begin
again
.
But
the
peaches
they
wo
n't
touch
now
,
'
cause
of
the
fur
'
pon
'
em
.
Awnly
they
'll
make
up
for't
when
the
things
is
ready
for
eatin
'
.
"
So
Uncle
Thomas
explained
the
position
to
Joan
.
He
,
good
man
,
had
fulfilled
his
promise
to
see
Michael
Tregenza
.
It
happened
that
a
load
of
oar-weed
was
wanted
on
the
farm
,
and
Mr.
Chirgwin
,
instead
of
sending
one
of
the
hands
with
horse
and
cart
to
Newlyn
according
to
his
custom
when
seaweed
was
needed
,
went
himself
.
His
elder
niece
expostulated
with
him
and
explained
that
such
a
trip
would
be
interpreted
to
mean
straitened
circumstances
on
the
farm
;
but
her
uncle
was
not
proud
,
and
when
he
explained
that
his
real
object
was
an
opportunity
to
speak
with
Joan
's
father
Mary
said
no
more
.
Screwing
courage
to
the
sticking-point
,
therefore
,
the
old
man
went
down
to
Newlyn
on
a
morning
when
Joan
was
not
by
to
question
his
movements
.
Fortune
favored
him
.
Michael
had
landed
at
daylight
and
was
not
sailing
again
till
dusk
.
The
fisherman
listened
patiently
,
but
Mr.
Chirgwin
's
inconsequent
and
sentimental
conversation
sounded
as
tinkling
brass
upon
his
ear
.
Both
argued
the
question
upon
religious
grounds
,
but
from
an
entirely
different
standpoint
.
Michael
was
not
at
the
trouble
to
talk
much
,
for
his
visitor
seemed
scarce
worthy
of
powder
and
shot
.
He
explained
that
he
deemed
it
damnation
to
hold
unnecessary
converse
with
sinners
;
that
,
by
her
act
,
Joan
had
raised
eternal
barriers
between
herself
and
those
of
her
own
home
,
and
,
indeed
,
all
chosen
people
;
that
he
had
walked
in
the
light
from
the
dawn
of
his
days
until
the
present
time
,
and
could
not
imperil
the
souls
of
his
wife
,
his
son
and
himself
by
any
further
communion
with
one
,
in
his
judgment
,
lost
beyond
faintest
possibility
of
redemption
.
Uncle
Chirgwin
listened
with
open
mouth
to
these
sentiments
.
He
longed
to
relate
how
Joan
had
repented
of
her
offense
,
how
she
had
thrown
herself
upon
the
Lord
,
and
found
peace
and
forgiveness
.
No
such
thing
could
be
recorded
,
however
,
and
he
felt
himself
at
a
disadvantage
.
He
prayed
for
mercy
on
her
behalf
,
but
mercy
was
a
luxury
Gray
Michael
deemed
beyond
the
reach
of
man
.
He
showed
absolutely
no
emotion
upon
the
subject
,
and
his
chill
unconcern
quenched
the
farmer
's
ardor
.
Mr.
Chirgwin
mourned
mightily
that
he
held
not
a
stronger
case
.
Joan
had
tied
his
hands
,
at
any
rate
,
for
the
present
.
If
she
would
only
come
round
,
accept
the
truth
and
abandon
her
present
attitude
—
then
he
knew
that
he
would
fight
like
a
giant
for
her
,
and
that
,
with
right
upon
his
side
,
he
would
surely
prevail
.
His
last
words
upon
the
subject
shadowed
this
conviction
.
"
Please
God
time
may
soften
'
e
,
Tregenza
;
an
'
,
maybe
,
soften
Joan
tu
.
Her
heart
's
warm
yet
,
an
'
the
truth
will
find
its
plaace
theer
in
the
Lard
's
awn
time
;
but
you
—
I
doubt
'
tedn
'
in
you
to
change
.
"
"
Never
,
till
wrong
be
right
.
"
"
You
makes
me
sorry
for
'
e
,
Tregenza
.
"
"
Weep
for
yourself
,
Thomas
Chirgwin
.
You
'm
that
contented
,
an
'
the
contented
sawl
be
allus
farthest
from
God
if
you
awnly
knawed
it
.
Wheer
's
your
fear
an
'
tremblin
'
too
?
I
've
never
seed
'
e
afeared
or
shaken
'
fore
the
thrawn
o
'
the
Most
High
in
your
life
.
But
I
'
sure
'
e
,
thee
'll
come
to
it
.
"
"
An
'
you
say
that
!
'
You
'm
'
mazin
'
blind
,
Tregenza
,
for
all
you
walk
in
the
Light
.
The
Light
's
dazed
'
e
,
I
'm
thinkin
'
,
same
as
birds
a
breakin
'
theer
wings
'
gainst
lighthouse
glasses
.
You
sez
you
be
a
worm
twenty
times
a
day
,
an
'
yet
you
'm
proud
enough
for
Satan
hisself
purty
nigh
.
If
you
'm
a
worm
,
why
doa
n't
'
e
act
like
a
worm
an
'
be
humble-minded
?
'
Tis
the
lil
childern
gets
into
heaven
.
You
'm
stiff-necked
,
Michael
Tregenza
.
I
sez
it
respectful
an
'
in
sorrer
;
but
'
tis
true
.
"
"
I
hope
the
Lard
wo
n't
lay
thy
sin
to
thy
charge
,
my
poor
sawl
,
"
answered
the
fisherman
with
perfect
indifference
.
"
You
—
you
dares
to
speak
agin
me
!
I
wish
I
could
give
'
e
a
hand
an
'
drag
'
e
a
lil
higher
up
the
ladder
o
'
righteousness
,
Chirgwin
;
but
you
'm
o
'
them
as
caa
n't
dance
or
else
wo
n't
,
not
if
God
A'mighty
's
Self
piped
to
'
e
.
Go
your
ways
,
an
'
knaw
you
'm
in
the
prayers
of
a
man
whose
prayers
be
heard
.
"
"
Then
pray
for
Joan
.
If
you
'm
so
cocksure
you
gets
a
hearin
'
'
fore
us
church
folks
,
'
tis
your
fust
duty
to
plead
for
her
.
"
"
It
was
,
"
he
said
.
"
Now
it
is
too
late
,
I
've
sweated
for
her
,
an
'
wrastled
wi
'
principalities
an
'
powers
for
her
,
an
'
filled
the
night
watches
by
sea
an
'
shore
wi
'
gert
agonies
o
'
prayer
for
her
.
But
'
tweer
n't
to
be
.
Her
name
's
writ
in
the
big
Book
o
'
Death
,
not
the
small
Book
o
'
Life
.
David
prayed
hard
till
that
cheel
,
got
wrong
side
the
blanket
,
died
.
Then
he
washed
his
face
an
'
ate
his
meat
.
'
Twas
like
that
wi
'
me
.
Joan
's
dead
now
.
Let
the
dead
bury
theer
dead
.
"
"
'
Tis
awful
to
hear
'
e
,
Tregenza
.
"
"
The
truth
's
a
awful
thing
,
Chirgwin
,
but
a
lie
is
awfuler
still
.
'
Tis
the
common
fate
to
be
lost
.
You
an
'
sich
as
you
caa
n't
grasp
the
truth
'
bout
that
.
Heaven
's
no
need
to
be
a
big
plaace
—
theer
'
edn
'
gwaine
to
be
no
crowdin
'
theer
.
'
Tis
hell
as
'll
fill
space
wi
'
its
roominess
.
"
"
I
be
gwaine
,
"
answered
Mr.
Chirgwin
.
"
Us
have
talked
three
hour
by
the
clock
,
an
'
us
ai
n't
gotten
wan
thot
in
common
.
I
trusts
in
Christ
;
you
trusts
in
yourself
.
Time
'll
shaw
which
was
right
.
You
damn
the
world
;
I
would
n't
damn
a
dew-snail
.
[
Footnote
:
Dew-snail
—
A
slug
.
]
I
awnly
sez
again
,
'
May
you
live
to
see
all
the
pints
you
'm
wrong
.
'
An
'
if
you
do
,
'
twill
be
a
tidy
big
prospect
.
"
They
exchanged
some
further
remarks
in
a
similar
strain
.
Then
Tom
informed
Uncle
Chirgwin
that
his
cart
with
a
full
load
of
oar-weed
was
waiting
at
the
door
.
Whereupon
the
old
man
got
his
hat
,
loaded
his
pipe
,
wished
Thomasin
good-by
,
and
drove
sorrowfully
away
.
Mrs.
Tregenza
had
secretly
inquired
after
Joan
's
health
and
wealth
.
That
the
first
was
excellent
,
the
second
carefully
put
away
in
the
lawyer
's
hands
,
caused
her
satisfaction
.
She
told
Mr.
Chirgwin
to
make
Joan
write
out
a
will
.
"
You
never
knaws
,
"
she
said
.
"
God
keep
the
gal
,
but
they
do
die
now
an
'
agin
.
'
Tweer
better
she
wrote
about
the
money
'
cordin
'
to
a
lawyer
's
way
.
And
,
say
,
for
the
Lard
's
love
,
not
to
leave
it
to
Michael
.
So
well
light
a
fire
wi
'
it
as
that
.
He
bawled
out
as
the
money
had
lit
a
fire
a'ready
,
when
I
touched
'
pon
it
to
en
—
a
fire
as
was
gwaine
to
burn
through
eternity
;
but
Michael
's
not
like
a
human
.
His
ideas
'
pon
affairs
is
all
pure
Bible
.
You
an
'
me
caa
n't
grasp
hold
o
'
all
he
says
.
An
'
the
money
's
done
no
wrong
.
So
you
'll
drop
in
Joan
's
ear
as
it
might
be
worldly-wise
to
save
trouble
by
sayin
'
what
should
be
done
if
anything
ill
failed
'
pon
her
—
eh
?
"
Uncle
Chirgwin
promised
that
he
would
do
so
,
and
Mrs.
Tregenza
felt
a
weight
off
her
mind
which
had
distressed
it
for
some
while
.
She
was
thinking
of
Tom
,
of
course
.
She
knew
that
Joan
loved
him
,
and
though
the
prospect
of
his
ever
coming
by
a
penny
of
the
money
appeared
slender
,
yet
to
think
that
he
might
be
in
a
will
,
named
for
hundreds
of
pounds
,
was
a
shadowy
sort
of
joy
to
her
.
That
night
Joan
's
uncle
told
the
girl
of
his
afternoon
's
work
,
and
she
expressed
some
sorrow
that
he
should
have
thus
exerted
himself
on
her
behalf
.
"
Faither
's
dirt
beside
the
likes
of
you
,
"
she
said
.
"
'
Twas
wastin
'
good
time
to
talk
to
en
,
an
'
I
would
n't
go
back
to
Newlyn
,
you
mind
,
if
he
was
to
ax
me
'
pon
his
knees
.
I
'm
a
poor
fool
of
a
gal
,
but
I
knaws
enough
to
laugh
at
the
ignorance
o
'
faither
an
'
that
fiddle-faaced
crowd
to
the
Luke
Gospel
Chapel
.
"
"
Doa
n't
'
e
be
bitter
,
Joan
.
Us
all
makes
mistakes
an
'
bad
's
the
best
o
'
human
creatures
.
Your
faither
will
chaange
,
sure
as
I
'm
a
livin
'
man
,
some
day
.
God
ba
n't
gwaine
to
let
en
gaw
down
to
's
graave
wi
'
sich
a
'
mazin
'
number
o
'
wrong
opinions
.
Else
think
o
'
the
wakin
'
t'other
side
!
Iss
,
it
caa
n't
be
.
Why
,
as
'
tis
,
if
he
went
dead
sudden
,
he
'd
gaw
marchin
'
into
heaven
as
bold
as
brass
,
an
'
bang
up
to
the
right
hand
o
'
the
thrawne
!
Theer
's
a
situation
for
a
body
!
An
'
the
awk'ardness
o
'
havin
'
to
step
forrard
an
'
tell
en
!
No
,
no
,
the
man
'll
be
humbled
sure
'
fore
his
journey
's
end
.
Theer
's
Everlasting
eyes
'
pon
en
,
think
as
you
may
.
"
"
I
never
think
at
all
about
him
,
"
declared
Joan
,
"
an
'
I
ba
n't
gwaine
to
.
He
wo
n't
chaange
,
an
'
I
never
wants
en
to
.
I
've
got
you
to
love
me
,
an
'
to
love
;
an
'
I
'm
—
I
'm
waitin
'
for
wan
as
be
gawld
to
faither
's
dross
.
"
She
sighed
as
she
spoke
.
"
Waitin
'
for
en
still
?
"
"
Ay
,
for
Mister
Jan.
It
caa
n't
be
no
gert
length
o
'
time
now
.
I
s'pose
days
go
quicker
up
Lunnon
town
than
wi
'
us
.
"
"
Joan
,
my
dovey
,
'
tis
idle
.
Even
I
sees
it
now
.
I
did
think
wi
'
you
fust
as
he
was
a
true
man
.
I
caa
n't
no
more
.
I
wish
I
could
.
"
A
month
before
Joan
would
have
flashed
into
anger
at
such
a
speech
as
this
,
but
now
she
did
not
answer
.
Young
love
is
fertile
in
imagination
.
She
had
found
a
thousand
glories
in
John
Barren
,
and
,
when
he
left
her
,
had
woven
a
thousand
explanations
for
his
delayed
return
.
Now
invention
grew
dull
;
enthusiasm
waned
;
her
confidence
was
shaken
,
though
she
denied
the
fact
even
to
herself
as
a
sort
of
treachery
.
But
there
is
no
standing
still
in
time
.
The
remorseless
fact
of
his
non-return
extended
over
weeks
and
months
.
Mr.
Chirgwin
saw
her
silence
,
noted
the
little
quiver
of
her
mouth
as
he
declared
his
own
loss
of
faith
,
stroked
the
hand
she
thrust
dumbly
into
his
and
felt
her
silence
hurt
his
heart
.
Presently
Joan
spoke
.
"
I
've
got
none
to
b'lieve
in
en
no
more
then
—
not
wan
now
,
not
even
you
.
Whiles
you
stuck
up
for
en
I
felt
braave
'
bout
his
comin
'
;
now
—
now
Mister
Jan
have
awnly
got
me
to
say
a
word
for
en
.
An
'
you
doa
n't
think
he
'm
a
true
man
no
more
then
,
uncle
?
"
"
Lassie
,
I
wish
to
God
as
I
did
.
Time
's
time
.
Why
ba
n't
he
here
?
"
"
I
doa
n't
dare
think
this
is
the
end
.
I
'm
feared
to
look
forrard
now
.
If
it
do
wance
come
'
pon
me
as
he
've
gone
'
twill
drive
me
mad
,
I
knaws
.
"
"
No
,
never
,
not
if
you
'd
awnly
turn
your
faace
the
right
way
.
Theer
's
oceans
o
'
comfort
an
'
love
waitin
'
for
'
e
,
gal
.
You
did
belong
to
a
hard
world
,
as
I
knaws
who
have
just
comed
from
speech
wi
'
your
faither
;
but
'
twas
a
world
o
'
clean
eatin
'
an
'
dressin
'
an
'
livin
'
—
a
God-fearin
'
world
leadin
'
up'ards
on
a
narrer
,
ugly
road
,
but
a
safe
road
,
I
s'pose
.
An
'
you
left
it
.
You
'll
say
I
be
harsh
,
but
my
heart
do
bleed
for
'
e
,
Joan
.
If
you
'd
awnly
drop
this
talk
'
bout
Nature
,
as
none
of
us
understands
,
an
'
turn
to
the
livin
'
Christ
,
as
all
can
understand
.
That
's
wheer
rest
lies
for
'
e
,
nowheers
else
.
You
'm
like
Eve
in
the
garden
.
She
was
kindiddled
an
'
did
eat
an
'
lost
eternal
life
an
'
had
to
quit
Eden
.
An
'
'
tis
forbidden
fruit
as
you
've
ate
,
not
knawin
'
'
twas
sich
.
Nature
doa
n't
label
her
pisins
,
worse
luck
.
"
"
Eve
?
No
,
I
ba
n't
no
Eve
.
She
had
Adam
.
"
There
was
a
world
of
sorrow
in
the
words
and
the
hopeless
ring
in
them
startled
Uncle
Chirgwin
,
for
it
denoted
greater
changes
in
the
girl
's
mind
than
he
thought
existed
.
She
seemed
nearer
to
the
truth
.
It
cut
his
heart
to
see
her
suffering
,
but
he
thanked
Heaven
that
the
inevitable
knowledge
was
coming
,
and
prayed
it
might
be
the
first
step
toward
peace
.
He
was
silent
with
his
thoughts
,
and
Joan
spoke
again
,
repeating
her
last
words
.
"
Iss
,
Eve
had
Adam
to
put
his
arm
around
her
an
'
kiss
her
wet
eyes
.
He
were
more
to
her
than
what
the
garden
was
,
I
'll
lay
,
or
God
either
.
That
's
the
bitter
black
God
o
'
my
faither
.
What
for
did
He
let
the
snake
in
the
garden
'
tall
if
He
really
loved
them
fust
poor
fools
?
Why
dedn
'
He
put
they
flamin
'
angels
theer
sooner
.
'
Twas
the
snake
they
should
have
watched
an
'
kep
'
out
.
"
Uncle
Chirgwin
looked
at
her
with
round
terrified
eyes
.
She
had
never
echoed
Barron
's
sentiments
to
such
a
horrified
listener
.
"
Doa
n't
,
for
pity
's
sake
,
Joan
!
The
wickedness
of
it
!
Him
as
taught
you
to
think
such
frightful
thoughts
tried
to
ruin
your
sawl
so
well
as
your
body
.
Oh
,
if
you
'd
awnly
up
an
'
say
,
'
That
man
was
wrong
an
'
I
'll
forget
en
an
'
turn
to
the
Saviour
.
'
"
"
You
caa
n't
understan
'
.
I
do
put
ugly
bits
o
'
thot
afore
'
e
,
but
if
you
'd
heard
him
as
opened
my
eyes
,
you
'd
knaw
'
tedn
'
ugly
taken
altogether
.
I
knaws
so
much
,
but
caa
n't
speak
it
out
.
Us
done
no
sin
,
an
'
I
ba
n't
shamed
to
look
the
sun
in
the
faace
,
nor
you
.
An
'
he
will
come
—
he
will
—
if
theer
's
a
kind
God
in
heaven
he
'll
come
back
to
me
.
If
'
e
doa
n't
,
then
I
'll
say
that
faither
's
God
's
the
right
wan
.
"
"
Doa
n't
'
e
put
on
a
bold
front
,
Joan
gal
.
Theer
's
things
tu
deep
for
the
likes
o
'
us
.
You
ba
n't
prayin
'
right
,
I
reckon
.
Theer
's
a
voice
hid
in
you
.
Listen
to
that
.
Nature
's
spawk
to
'
e
an
'
now
er
's
dumb
.
Listen
to
t'other
,
lassie
.
Nature
do
guide
beasts
an
'
birds
an
'
the
poor
herbs
o
'
the
field
;
but
you
—
you
listen
to
t'other
.
You
'll
never
be
happy
no
more
till
you
awns
'
twas
a
sad
mistake
an
'
do
ax
in
the
right
plaace
for
pardon
.
"
"
I
want
no
pardon
,
"
she
said
.
"
I
have
done
no
wrong
,
I
tell
'
e
.
Wheer
's
justice
to
?
'
Cause
the
man
do
bide
away
,
I
be
wicked
;
if
he
comed
back
to-morrer
an
'
married
me
—
what
then
?
I
be
sinless
in
the
matter
of
it
,
an
'
Nature
do
knaw
it
,
an
'
God
do
knaw
it
.
"
But
her
breast
heaved
and
her
eyes
were
wet
with
unshed
tears
.
Uncle
Chirgwin
,
her
solitary
trust
and
stand-by
,
had
drifted
away
too
.
His
hope
was
dead
and
she
could
not
revive
it
.
He
had
never
spoken
so
strongly
before
,
but
now
he
was
taking
up
Mary
's
line
of
action
and
had
ranged
himself
against
her
.
It
almost
seemed
to
Joan
that
he
reflected
in
a
meek
,
diluted
fashion
,
as
the
moon
turns
the
sun
's
golden
fire
to
silver
,
something
of
what
he
must
have
heard
that
afternoon
from
her
father
.
This
defection
acted
definitely
on
the
girl
's
temperament
.
She
fought
fear
,
hardened
her
heart
against
doubt
,
cast
suspicion
far
away
as
treason
to
"
Mister
Jan
"
and
gave
to
hope
a
new
lease
of
life
.
She
would
be
patient
for
his
sake
,
she
would
trust
in
him
still
.
There
was
something
grand
in
the
loneliness
,
she
told
herself
.
He
would
know
perhaps
one
day
of
her
great
patient
faith
and
love
.
And
the
trial
would
make
her
brain
and
heart
bigger
and
better
fit
her
for
the
position
of
wife
to
him
.
The
struggle
was
fought
by
her
with
that
courage
which
lies
beyond
man
's
comprehension
.
She
looked
at
the
world
with
bright
eyes
when
there
was
necessity
for
facing
it
;
she
exhausted
her
ingenuity
in
schemes
for
communicating
with
John
Barron
.
If
he
only
knew
!
She
felt
that
even
had
change
darkened
his
affection
for
her
,
yet
,
most
surely
,
the
thought
of
the
baby
must
tempt
him
back
again
.
Thus
,
with
sustained
bravery
and
ignorance
,
she
left
her
hand
in
Nature
's
,
and
her
faith
,
rising
gloriously
above
the
doubt
of
the
time
,
trusted
that
majestic
heathen
goddess
as
a
little
child
trusts
its
mother
.
Fate
played
another
prank
upon
her
not
long
afterward
and
thrust
into
her
hands
a
possible
means
of
access
to
John
Barron
.
A
favorite
resort
of
Joan
's
was
the
brook
which
ran
down
the
valley
beneath
Drift
and
Sancreed
.
The
little
stream
wound
through
a
fair
coomb
between
orchards
,
meadows
,
wastes
of
fern
and
heather
.
At
this
season
of
the
year
the
valley
was
very
lonely
,
and
a
certain
spot
beside
the
stream
often
tempted
Joan
by
reason
of
its
comfort
and
its
peace
.
From
here
,
sitting
on
a
granite
bowlder
clothed
in
soft
green
mosses
and
having
a
shape
into
which
human
limbs
might
fit
easily
,
the
girl
could
see
much
that
was
fair
.
The
meadows
were
all
sprinkled
with
the
silver-mauve
of
cuckoo-flowers
—
Shakespeare
's
"
lady
's
smock
"
;
the
hills
sloped
upward
under
oaken
saplings
as
yet
too
young
for
the
stripping
;
the
valley
stretched
winding
landward
beneath
Sancreed
.
Above
and
far
away
stretched
the
Cornish
moors
dotted
with
man
's
mining
enterprises
,
chiefly
deserted
.
Ding-Dong
raised
its
gaunt
engine
stack
and
,
distant
though
it
was
,
Joan
's
sharp
eyes
could
see
the
rusty
arm
of
iron
stretching
forth
from
the
brickwork
,
motionless
,
not
worth
the
removing
.
Close
at
hand
,
where
the
stream
wandered
babbling
at
her
feet
,
the
whole
glory
of
spring
shone
on
blossoms
and
grasses
where
the
world
of
the
stream-side
sent
forth
a
warm
,
living
smell
.
The
wildness
of
the
upland
moors
stretched
down
into
the
valley
below
them
.
There
glimmered
blue-green
patches
of
bracken
,
speckled
with
the
red
and
white
hides
of
calves
which
fed
and
scampered
dew-lap
deep
;
and
the
fern
was
all
sheened
with
light
where
the
sunshine
brightened
its
polished
leaves
.
The
stream
wound
through
the
midst
,
bedecked
and
adorned
with
purple
bugle
flowers
,
bridged
with
dog-roses
and
honeysuckles
,
in
festoons
,
in
bunches
and
in
sprays
,
crowned
with
scented
gorse
,
fringed
with
yellow
irises
which
splashed
flaming
reflections
where
the
brook
widened
and
slowed
into
shallow
little
backwaters
.
Flags
and
cresses
framed
the
margins
;
meadowsweets
made
the
air
fragrant
above
,
and
granite
bowlders
fretted
the
waters
silver
,
their
foundations
hidden
in
dark
water-weed
.
Sunshine
danced
on
every
tiny
cascade
and
threw
stars
and
twinkling
flashes
of
light
upward
from
the
brown
pools
upon
the
banks
.
Everything
was
upon
a
miniature
scale
,
even
to
the
trout
which
lived
in
the
stream
,
flashed
their
dim
shadows
under
its
waters
,
leaped
into
the
air
after
the
flies
,
set
little
clouds
of
sand
shimmering
as
they
darted
up
and
down
or
,
when
surprised
,
wriggled
away
into
favorite
holes
and
hiding
places
beneath
the
banks
and
trailing
weeds
.
Ling
and
wortleberry
too
were
moorland
visitors
in
the
valley
,
and
the
bog
heather
already
budded
.
Here
was
one
of
the
many
favorite
resting-places
of
Joan
,
and
hither
she
came
on
a
rare
morning
in
mid
June
at
the
wish
of
another
person
.
Uncle
Chirgwin
had
set
his
niece
a
task
,
and
the
object
of
her
present
visit
was
no
mere
dawdling
and
thinking
while
perched
upon
the
granite
throne
above
the
meadowsweets
.
This
fact
a
basket
and
a
three-pronged
fork
indicated
.
Her
uncle
deemed
himself
an
authority
on
simples
and
possessed
much
information
,
mostly
erroneous
,
concerning
the
properties
of
wild
herbs
and
flowers
.
A
decoction
of
hemp
agrimony
he
at
all
times
considered
a
most
valuable
bitter
tonic
;
and
of
this
plant
the
curious
flesh-colored
flowers
on
their
long
green
stems
grew
pretty
freely
by
the
stream-side
in
the
valley
.
The
time
of
flowering
was
not
yet
come
,
but
Joan
knew
the
dull
leaf
of
the
herb
well
enough
and
,
that
found
,
she
could
easily
dig
up
the
root
,
wherein
its
virtue
dwelt
.
But
before
starting
on
her
search
,
the
girl
rested
a
while
where
the
serrated
foliage
and
creamy
blossom
of
the
meadowsweets
laced
and
fringed
the
granite
of
her
couch
;
and
,
as
she
sat
there
,
her
eye
taking
in
the
happy
valley
,
her
brain
reading
into
the
luxuriant
life
of
nature
,
some
strange
new
thoughts
hidden
until
lately
,
she
became
suddenly
conscious
of
a
phenomenon
beyond
her
power
to
immediately
explain
or
understand
It
drove
the
hemp
agrimony
quite
out
of
her
head
,
and
,
when
the
mystery
came
to
be
explained
,
filled
Joan
's
mind
with
the
memory
of
her
own
sad
affairs
.
First
and
repeatedly
there
glimmered
a
gossamer
over
the
stream
,
falling
into
the
water
and
as
often
rising
again
;
then
above
the
film
of
light
flashed
another
,
rising
abruptly
golden
into
the
sunshine
.
Not
for
a
moment
or
two
did
she
discover
the
flashing
thing
was
a
fly-rod
,
but
presently
the
man
who
held
it
appeared
below
her
at
a
bend
of
the
streamlet
.
He
was
clad
much
like
the
artists
,
and
it
made
the
blood
flush
hot
to
her
cheek
as
she
thought
he
might
be
one
.
Young
men
sometimes
fished
the
brook
for
the
fingerling
trout
it
contained
.
They
were
small
but
sweet
,
and
the
catching
them
with
a
fly
was
difficult
work
in
a
stream
so
overhung
with
tangles
of
vine
and
brier
,
so
densely
planted
in
the
wider
reaches
with
water
hemlock
and
lesser
weeds
.
This
fisherman
,
at
any
rate
,
found
successful
sport
beyond
his
power
to
achieve
.
He
flogged
away
,
but
hung
his
fly
clear
of
the
stream
at
every
second
cast
and
deceived
not
the
smallest
troutlet
of
them
all
.
The
young
man
,
after
the
manner
of
those
anglers
classified
as
"
chuck
and
chance
it
,
"
worked
his
clumsy
way
toward
Joan
's
chair
on
the
granite
bowlder
.
Motionless
she
sat
,
and
her
drab
attire
and
faded
sun-bonnet
harmonized
so
well
with
the
tones
around
it
—
the
gray
of
the
stones
,
the
lights
of
the
river
,
the
masses
of
the
meadowsweet
—
that
while
noting
a
broad
and
sparkling
stickle
winding
away
beneath
her
,
the
angler
missed
the
girl
herself
.
This
stickle
spread
,
with
an
oily
tremor
and
white
undercurrent
full
of
air
pearls
,
from
a
waterfall
where
the
foot
of
Joan
's
throne
fretted
the
stream
.
Below
it
the
