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On the third day from this, Calverley, bearing the felon's brand, unwept and unknown, was laid in the stranger's grave.

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Considering how much she had already given him, it was perhaps strange that she shuddered a little at this open venture.Towards evening uneasiness sprang up again, with the old questionwould he return? She told herself that if he did, she would not hold back, she would not let her inexperience and timidity rob her or him of their love. She would let him kiss her as he pleasedlove was too good a thing to risk for a few qualms. But would he come?would he give her the chance of reparation? The sun dipped behind Castweasel, the hot sky cooled into a limpid greenstars specked it in the north, and the moon came up behind Iden Woods, huge and dim.
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ONE:"Hold there! I have brought ye a drop of wine."

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TWO:He choked, and fell into the darkness."I don't want you."

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TWO:She moved down to the gate and leaned over it, while her eyes roved the twilight unseeing. The voice on the Moor swelled clearer. It was a man's voice, low-pitched and musical:

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TWO:

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TWO:"Isabella, make no promises," interrupted De Boteler"parley not with such as he." And, striving to calm himself so as to speak dispassionately, he added, turning to the smith, "Walter Turner, you are acquainted with the spot that shelters Stephen Holgrave, and I insist that you instantly reveal it."

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TWO:
FORE:"Ha! and do ye say so?" returned Tyler, elevating his arm, "take ye that for your insolence:" but the blow, which would have deprived the worthy citizens of their sturdy chief, was arrested, ere it descended, by Warwick, who seized the uplifted weapon from behind, and the next moment the smith received a stunning blow from William Walworth's mace; then, as the reins dropped from his hands, a thrust from De Boteler's sword, ended the cares of one who, doubtless, had he lived at a later period, might, in the cause for which he bled, have been a Tell or a Hofer.She gave him the cream bowl. Their hands accidentally touched; she pulled hers away, and the bowl fell and was broken.

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FORE:"Reckon he's fallen down in a fit somewhere and died."

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FORE:They had both risen and faced each other, anger in their eyes. But their antagonism had lost that vital quality which had once made it the salt of their friendship.

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FORE:"In hopes of being well paid," thought the galleyman, though he said nothing; he merely smiled an answer, and then, drawing Harvey a little aside, whispered him

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TWO:

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THREE:"But you can't help loving, surelye."

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THREE:"I hope that's enough to satisfy you. Because there won't be any more She's dying."

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THREE:Harry had recovered consciousness, but it could not be said that he had "come to himself." "Beautiful Harry," with all his hopes and ardours, his dreams and sensibilities, had run away like a gipsy, and in his place was a new Harry, blind and mad, who moaned and laughed, with stony silences, and now and then strange fits of struggling as if the runaway gipsy strove to come back."No, to me."

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THREE:"Welcome," she said, and laughed.Reuben had bought thirty-five more acres of Boarzell in '81, and thirty in '84. The first piece was on the Flightshot side of the Moor, by Cheat Land, the second stretched from the new ground by Totease over to Burntbarns. Now only about fifty acres, including the Fair-place and the crest, remained to be won outside the Grandturzel inclosure. Bardon publicly announced his intention never to sell the Fair-place to Backfield. Flightshot and Odiam had not been drawn together by Richard's marriage. At first Reuben had feared that the Squire might take liberties on the strength of it, and had been stiffer than ever in his unavoidable intercourse with the Manor. But Bardon had been, if anything, stiffer still. He thoroughly disapproved of Backfield as an employer of laboursome of his men were housed, with their families, in two old barns converted into cottages at the cheapest rateand as he was too hard up to refuse to sell him Boarzell, he could express his disgust only by his attitude. Fine shades of manner were apt to be lost on Reuben, but about the refusal to sell the Fair-place there could be no mistake.
TWO:Bill looked, his eyes opening wider than ever. She[Pg 401] certainly was a disreputable female, or there was no judging by appearances. She wore a big frowsy hat trimmed with roses and ears of corn, under which her thick black hair was held up by several tawdry pins; her face was more lavishly than artistically adorned with rouge and blanc de perle, and she pulled a cape of lavender velvet closely round her shoulders as if she were coldwhich might well have been, for, as far as they could see, her bodice consisted almost entirely of lace.

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"Alice ..." he said.At first she had not been pleased. She was only nineteen, not particularly robust, and resented the loss of her health and freedom; but after a while sweet thoughts and expectations began to warm in her. She loved little babies, and it would be delicious to have[Pg 81] one of her own. She hoped it would be a girl, and thought of beautiful names for itVictoria, Emilia, Marianna, and others that she had seen in the Keepsake. But her delight was nothing to Reuben's. She had been surprised, overwhelmed by his joy when she told him her news. He, usually so reserved, had become transported, emotional, almost lyricalso masterful, had humbled himself before her and had knelt at her feet with his face hidden in her gown.She tried to speak, but the words burnt up in her mouth.
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