“That will be Sunday night, if I may.”
She nodded.
“Good-night, and bless you for your kind words,” said Mr Sim very fervently.
“Good-night,” she answered, and went her way.
No definite course of action had prompted her to this strange offer. Her only wish was to get a closer view of the gaiter and compare the button she had found with those upon it. Now, as she rode on, a thousand plans passed through her mind, but not one pleased her, and she began doubtfully to speculate upon the necessity of seeking help in this enterprise. The danger grew. Let Sim once suspect, and she could not guess the result. If he had himself destroyed the keeper and in cold blood plotted the subsequent destruction of Daniel Sweetland, then he would stick at nothing. Minnie very clearly perceived the necessity for caution. She also saw the direction in which Sim’s thoughts were turning. That he would ask her to marry him when Midsummer came was certain. She only hoped that, long before summer returned, the truth might have dawned upon her darkness and her husband be by her side again.
Daniel was in her thoughts and her young heart yearned for him as she returned to her lonely dwelling. Then, as if to answer the longing, a great thing greeted her and the day closed in splendour brighter than any sunset light.
Mr Beer was waiting for the pony when Minnie arrived at the Warren Inn, and she remarked, despite the gloaming, that his mouth was full of news.
“Wonders never cease, but be on the increase,” he began. “An’ well you know that when I break out into poetry I’ve generally got something on my mind. Well, so I have. Onlight from your horse an’ I’ll give ’e a present. What could be better than a postman’s letter? An’ from foreign parts, if you’ll believe me, though I didn’t know, my dear, as you’d got friends in the distance.”
“Dan,” she said. “’Tis Dan—my heart says it.”