"Dir anwl! I daresay it was her, indeed; but yet, I thought she was too much of a lady to join the gypshwns. Well, well; strange things do happen."
And the story of Valmai having been seen in the tent of the gypshwns was spread abroad in the village, not that any one believed it, but it was, at all events, better than no news, and was a little spicy condiment in the daily fare of gossip.
"My papers," said the "Vicare du" laconically to the postmaster. "Is your wife better?"
"Iss thank you, sir, and here is a letter for you—from Australia, I think."
The Vicar took it without any show of feeling, though his heart had given a sudden bound at the postman's news.
"Stormy day," he said, as he passed out of the narrow doorway.
He was longing to get home, but he would not hurry his step. He stopped and looked impatiently as he heard the postman call after him.
"There is another letter from Australia, sir, but I dunno where was I to send it. Here it is, sir." And he touched his hat apologetically as he handed a second letter to him.
"Yes; my son's handwriting, I see. I will take charge of it."
He gasped for breath, though the postman saw no sign of emotion, and, as he bent his head against the wind, he read the address on the second letter.