"Why should you care? But I wouldn't hurt you for anything, Sarah Jane—much too fond of you for that. I know your virtues—nobody better. If you'd like to be god-mother, you shall, bless your large heart! And don't try to quarrel with me, because I'll never let you. Them beautiful eyes—they make the sky ashamed these cold days!"
He rode away before she could answer, and left her in doubt of his meaning. The words he said were nothing, but the easy familiarity of his tone exasperated her. She determined with herself that now, even if pressed to be his child's godmother, she would refuse.
And Jarratt Weekes, returning to Lydford, met another of the Ruddyford folk. He was passing with a nod, when John Prout stopped him. The ponies rubbed noses, and then Prout turned and rode for a while beside the other.
"Funny I should chance on you," said Jarratt. "I've just been having speech along with Sarah Jane Brendon. 'Tis the salt of life to me to see that woman carry her lovely head so high—knowing what I know."
"Weekes," answered the old man, "I want to pray you by all that you hold sacred, by the prosperity that's yours, by your wife and by your child, and by your God—yes, by your God—to let this pass over. Forget it you can't—no more can I—but don't let it be a part of your life, or your thoughts. Don't let it enter into your mind, as a thing to be used. Which of us can live his whole life with the blind up? 'Twas a fatal accident, and I'm not saying a word against sin—my hair be the greyer for it—but—oh, man, don't harbour it; don't hug it, for God's sake—same as you be doing now. I know—I know. I read it in your face every time you and me meet in company. I——"
"Stop," interrupted Weekes. "You're wasting your wind, Prout. And you're quite mistaking me. Everyone of us, if we keep our eyes open, hoard a harvest in our memories and collect all sorts of things gleaned up out of the world. Some of the gatherings may be useful, some may not be useful. You never know. A man's memory be like a woman's boxes—full of all sorts; and the wisest man keeps all in order, so as he'll know where to put his finger on anything if he wants it. He may die without using some of the things stored up—or he may find he needs 'em in a hurry any minute. That's how 'tis with me."
"What sort of Christian be that who hoards what he knows another creature would dearly wish destroyed? You mean to strike these people when the time comes and you hunger for the chance to do it."
"Not a bit. I'm in no hurry to roll 'em over, I do assure you. 'Live and let live' is a very good motto. And 'Let sleeping dogs lie' be another worth remembering. But as to laughing at a good joke—that I always shall do. And the cream of the joke is the fix you be in. For if you wasn't here, I should have no witness; but since you be here, I can blow Brendon to the devil when I like. 'Tis amusing in itself to feel so much stronger than that very strong chap."
"He's never wronged you—more have they—her and the master."
"How do you know that?"