The lad, who looked miserable and scared, opened his mouth with a stupid "Eh?"
Ursula repeated the question.
"I wants Jacob Baines."
"You'll find him with the rest, in front of that hay-rick, over his pipe and ale."
The lad was off like a shot.
"He is from Kingswell, I think. Can anything be the matter, John?"
"I will go and see. No, boys, no more games—I will be back presently."
He went, apparently rather anxious—as was easy to find out by only a glance at the face of Ursula. Soon she rose and went after him. I followed her.
We saw, close by the hay-rick, a group of men, angrily talking. The gossiping mothers were just joining them. Far off, in the field, the younger folk were still dancing merrily down their long line of "Thread-the-needle."
As we approached, we heard sobbing from one or two women, and loud curses from the men.