It would have gone badly with the younger had not the turf-cutter interposed, and, by sheer force, thrust them apart.
'What!' cried he, 'are you two brothers so jealous of each other you would strive like Cain and Abel? Shame on you both! Would you bring death and sorrow on your mother's hearth once more?'
They stood panting, but abashed, as he proceeded—
'Surely, what with one loss after another—the rent money unaccounted for when Evan disappeared, the cruel bill for costs, the raising of the rent, the missing lease—the poor widow do be passing through a sea of trouble, with cares enough to drown her, without you two, who should be her help and comfort, adding to the load. Are you not ashamed?'
'It be Rhys' fault!' 'It be Willem's fault!' they cried simultaneously, alike moved by the reference to their mother, whom they loved with deep affection.
'You are alike to blame. Each one has some reason on his side; but, let me tell you, lads, it is always the one most in the wrong who is the last to give in. Now, shake hands and be friends. I came here thinking to be doing you all a service, for it would pay better for Willem to be building walls than doing common field-work. But I don't be wanting to breed dissension between you, so I will be getting Morgan the stonemason to build my wall.'
William's lips were set close.
The brothers looked at each other; Rhys wavered. The reference to 'better pay' had struck a vibrating chord in his breast.
'If'—he began.
'I will build your wall, look you, pay or no pay, Robert Jones. But you will not be wanting me to-day, whatever?'