He ceased now and again from his digging, hung his hooked chin over his spade, and snuffed the savour of the clean brown earth. He thrust curt, furtive glances up into the girl's face as she watched him, as though desirous of reading her humour or her health.
"You are weary," she said to him anon, looking blankly into the trench.
The man wagged his head.
"Have ye broken fast? There is bread and dried fruit in the hut, and a pitcher of water."
"I cannot eat--yet," she answered him.
He sighed and continued his digging. The pile of russet earth increased on the green grass at her feet; the trench deepened. Jaspar moistened his palms, and toiled on, grunting as he hove his libations of soil over his shoulder. Presently he stood up again to rest.
"What will you do, madame?" he asked her, squinting at the clouds.
"Ride out."
"And whither?"
"Towards Gilderoy--as yet."