"Get to sleep, you fool!" he muttered drowsily. "Curse the bells—they sound uncanny; it'll be long before they ring for that wedding. God knows she's taken the heart clean out of my body—one, one, one; curse the bells!"
CHAPTER V. CONCERNING PARSLEY AND STRONG DRINK.
At eight of the next evening, Griff Lomax was surprised by a visit from the preacher—surprised, because only a few hours ago they had parted at the end of a long ride together.
Gabriel wore an air of clumsy craftiness which sat laughably ill upon him.
"It's time you paid your respects at the mill, don't you think?" he said, shifting from foot to foot.
"Oh, the wind blows there, does it?" laughed Griff, noting that the preacher's face was more carefully shaven than usual, and that he wore a shirt of fine linen.
"I know them, Griff, and you don't. It seems but neighbourly to go together."
"You saw her this afternoon, I fancy? Gabriel, boy, you're in a bad way. I have work to do; can't you wait till to-morrow?"