"It's all in here," she whispered, scratching at the door of a cupboard just above her head. "The key is in her pocket."
With the deftness of a pickpocket Griff felt for the key and took it out. He unlocked the cupboard, and crossed over to the window.
"Take what you want," he said.
The mad woman peered into the cupboard, uttering little screams of delight. She ran her hand caressingly along the bottles. The nurse moved in her sleep, then opened her eyes.
"It's all right," murmured Griff; "I am looking after her."
"Mind you do. It's death if she touches a drop to-day," said the nurse, drowsily, and closed her eyes again.
When Griff came out into the road again, the sun was sparkling on the frozen snow. The strain of his great endeavour was not past yet; his face showed strong, his mind was clear. He was thinking—not of what he had done, but of the happiness he had secured for two of his friends. It seemed almost better than if he had won happiness for himself. The glow of a fine altruism lit up his eyes.
He walked quickly down till he came opposite Wynyates Hall, and turned as if to go through the garden gate. But he thought better of it.
"Good news is better for the keeping; I will wait a while," he said to himself softly.
Then he fell to wondering what the old home looked like, and a yearning to see it again took hold of him. He went down the hill, and up the other side, and on until he gained Ling Crag. As he passed Gabriel Hirst's house, the preacher was standing in the doorway, kissing Greta good-bye before he went out. Griff smiled in a fatherly way, and called to Gabriel by name.