There had been no man to meet him, and the mattocks had made their weight felt after the first two miles. He laid them down thankfully.
For a moment he looked about him.
Behind him—over towards Girdle—the sun had just gone down. And Gramarye … Gramarye had never looked one half so beautiful…. All her hard lines were gone. Every sacred twig of her had put on a wedding garment. The wild mystery of the place had been exquisitely veiled. The majesty of desolation was in full dress. Far as the eye could reach, the toss of the glorious woods had become unspeakably enriched… maddening….
His eyes glittering, Lyveden hugged himself in a paroxysm of glee. The man was just gloating….
Then he strode to the wood-shed.
"Well, Patch," he said cheerily. "Has Patch been a good little——"
The sentence snapped off short.
For a moment Anthony stared at the empty staple.
Then he turned on his heel.
"Patch!" he cried sharply. "Patch!"