They talked late upon this wondrous turn of fortune, then Will recollected his mother and nothing would serve but that he wrote instantly to tell her of the news.
“It’ll cheer up uncle, tu, I lay,” he said.
“A letter comed while you was out,” answered Chris; “he’m holding his awn, but ’tis doubtful yet how things be gwaine to fare in the upshot.”
“Be it as ’twill, mother can do more ’n any other living woman could for un,” declared Will.
CHAPTER XIV
LOGIC
As Mr. Blee looked out upon a grey morning, the sallows leaping from silver to gold, from bud to blossom, scattered brightness through the dawn, and the lemon catkins of the hazel, the russet tassels of alders, brought light along the river, warmth into the world. A bell beat five from Chagford Church tower, and the notes came drowsily through morning mists. Then quick steps followed on the last stroke of the hour and Will stood by Billy’s side in Monks Barton farmyard. The old man raised his eyes from contemplation of a spade and barrow, bid Blanchard “Good morning” with simulated heartiness, and led the way to work, while Will followed, bringing the tools. They passed into a shrubbery of syringa bushes twenty yards distant, and the younger man, whose humour had been exceedingly amiable until that moment, now flushed to his eyes before the spectacle of his labour.
“Do ’e mean that Miller’s got nothin’ for me to do but this?”
“Plenty, plenty, I ’sure ’e; but that ban’t your business, be it? Theer’s the work, an’ I’d rather ’twas yourn than mine. Light your pipe an’ go ahead. Not a purty job, more ’tis; but beggars mustn’t be choosers in this hard world.”
Billy bolted after these remarks. He heard a growl behind him, but did not look round. Half an hour later, he crept back again by a circuitous route, watched Will awhile unseen, then stole grinning away to milk the cows.
The young man, honestly thunderstruck at the task planned for him, judged that thinking would not mend matters, and so began to work quickly without stopping to reflect. But his thoughts could not be controlled, any more than his disposition changed. A growing consciousness of deep and deliberate insult surged up in him. The more he brooded the slower he worked, and finally anger mastered determination. He flung down his spade, saluted a red sunrise with the worst language at his command, and strode down to the river. Here, for some time and until blue smoke began to climb from the kitchen chimney of the farm, Will paced about; then with a remarkable effort returned to his task. He actually started again, and might have carried the matter to completion; but an evil demon was abroad, and Billy, spying the young man at work anew, reappeared.