Ever since the death of Jake Runham, Kerenhappuch had known the truth. It had been necessary for Mark to tell her of their relationship, and of the obligation that had been laid upon him. At the same time, to save his father's memory, he urged her to keep the matter secret. This it was which made her reticent with Zita.
'Come,' said Mark. 'Now is not the time for an explanation—nor can I speak of such matters to you without pain, for my father did a great wrong. The question at this moment is—What is to be done? Here is the mill running a risk of being burnt down; on the other hand, there is the water which has been let out, pouring over the Fens. The latter is the most serious concern. If the mill be consumed, it can be rebuilt speedily; but if the fen be flooded, it will take years before it recovers.'
He took Zita's hand in his.
'I do believe I have been unjust. So has Kainie. We owe our lives to you. Kainie, ask her to forgive you the blow you dealt her.'
'No,' said Zita. 'I struck Kainie first, and she gave me the blow back again—harder than I struck her, but that was her profits.'
It seemed probable that the fire smouldering in the ribs of the sails would become extinct. There were matters more urgent, calling Mark elsewhere.
'Pip knew better than advise me of his intent,' said Mark. 'We must have a light.'
He tore one of the stakes from the sails of the mill.