"Take what fell out this very day at morn," he said, "to show how rash and wilful Mrs. Weekes can be of a Saturday. I was down in the garden attending to a thing or two and packing a pair of birds for our own hamper. Suddenly she came out of the house and began. 'Twas all about Mrs. Swain, of course, and how I never can send two birds of the same size, and how my goings-on will ruin our custom and spoil business and fetch us to the poor-house in our old age. She was in full swing, souls, when down comes Susan from the kitchen, running as if the dowl was arter her. 'Oh, Aunt Hepsy!' she begins. Then her aunt cut her short, and told her not to dare open her silly mouth while she was talking. So Susan stood still and the missis went on at me. I was a greedy Gubbins, and a traitor, and a wolf in sheep's clothing, and a lot of other things; I was a reed shaken with the wind, a know-nought gert mumphead, and suchlike. Then, after ten minutes of it, I should think, she turned to Susan, and asked what she'd got to say. The toad of a girl grinned in our faces and said 'twas of no consequence, only a gert strange dog, with a bit of broken rope round his neck, had got into the kitchen and put his paws on the table and growled at her, like a bear, and showed all his teeth at once. Well—there 'twas—you can guess what the room looked like when I runned in. The dog—I know whose dog 'twas well enough!—had done just what he damn pleased. He only made off when he heard me coming, and a muck heap's a neat, orderly place to what that kitchen was after he'd gone. Everything off the table, for he'd got over the crockery to the bacon and swept the tea-pot and things afore him like a river sweeps straws—bread, milk, dripping—everything. Never you seed such a masterpiece! I lost my presence of mind and turned on the missis and said, 'There—that's your work! Let that be a lesson to you, you chattering woman!' I oughtn't to have said it, and I was sorry enough after; but God He knows 'twill be weeks afore I get in a word edgewise again. She had her spasms first; then she come to and let me catch it hot and strong from the shoulder, I promise you. She never stopped. While I drove her to the station, and shut the carriage door on her, and the guard he whistled and the train went, 'twas one shattering volume of speech. However, I needn't trouble other people. We've all got our cares, no doubt."
They expressed sympathy with Philip's difficulties, and Adam Churchward especially dwelt upon the bright side. He reminded Mr. Weekes of the noble character of his son, and explained that we all have the defects of our qualities, and must give and take in a large and understanding spirit, if we are to reach happiness, despite the adverse circumstance of being human creatures.
These kindly words and his third glass of warm beer and nutmeg comforted Philip; while the fourth and last found him resigned even to the verge of renewed cheerfulness.
"Take my advice and say the word in season first minute you see her to-morrow," said Mr. Pearn. "Then, if the market's been good, 'twill come all right."
"I will do so," promised Philip. "That reminds me: I must take a box o' straw to the station, for she was going to fetch home a new tea-pot and a good few other things with her. 'Twill all come right, and I dare say, after all, 'twasn't a bad thing that I forgot myself and put my foot down so resolute. She may think on it after."
"She will," foretold Jacob Taverner. "Be sure she'll think on it, and think none the worse of you for it. They like the manhood to flash out of us now and again—even the most managing sort."
Closing time had come, and with great exclamations at the density of the fog, Mr. Pearn's guests departed to their homes.
CHAPTER V
VISIT TO A HERMIT
The evidences of former humanity that abound upon Dartmoor may be divided into remains prehistoric and mediæval. Amid the first shall be found the ruins of the stone-man's home and the scattered foundations of his lodges and encampments. To him also belong certain cirques of stone lifted here and there in lonely places, together with parallelitha, or avenues, and those menhirs and cairns that rise solitary upon high hills to mark the sleeping-places of neolithic heroes. Profound antiquity wraps up these memorials, and the significance of their record is still matter of antiquarian doubt. To what purpose was erected the hypæthral chamber and the long aisle of stone, may never now be understood; but later entries in the granite cartulary of Dartmoor are more easily deciphered. From the middle ages date the tin-streamers' works, where Tudor miners laboured; and scarce a river valley shall be searched without offering many evidences of their toil; while upon the higher grounds, marking some spot of special note, indicating boundaries or serving as guide-posts from goal to goal, the old stone crosses stand.