ed clay, that made the mud more slippery, that
penetrated a man's clothing and beat softly but irritatingly against his
face, and dripped from his hair and hat down upon his neck, however well
he might imagine himself protected by his outside wrappings. But, if he
was a common traveller--a rough tramp or laborer, who was not protected
from it at all, it could not fail to annoy him still more, and
consequently to affect his temper.

At the hour I have named, such a traveller was making his way through
the mire and drizzle toward Riggan,--a tramp in mud-splashed corduroy
and with the regulation handkerchief bundle tied to the thick stick
which he carried over his shoulder.

"Dom th' rain;--dom th' road," he said.

It was not alone the state of the weather that put him out of humor.

"Th' lass," he went on. "Dom her handsome face. Goin' agin a
chap--workin' agin him, an' settin' hersen i' his road. Blast me,"
grinding his teeth--"Blast me if I dunnot ha' it out wi' her!"

So cursing, and alternating his curses with raging silence, he trudged
on his way until four o'clock, when he was in sight of the cottage upon
the Knoll Road--the cottage where Joan and Liz lay asleep upon their
poor bed, with the child between them.

Joan had not been asleep long. The child had been unusually fretful, and
had kept her awake. So she was the more easily awakened from her first
light and uneasy slumber by a knock on the door. Hearing it, she started
up and listened.

"Who is it?" she asked in a voice too low to disturb the sleepers, but
distinct enough to reach Lowrie's hearing.

"Get thee up an' oppen th' door," was the answer. "I want thee."

She knew there was something wrong. She had not responded to his summons
for so many years without learning what each tone meant But she did not
hesitate.

When she had hastily thrown on some clothing, she opened the door and
stood before him.

"I did not expect to see yo' to-neet," she said, quietly.

"Happen not," he replied. "Coom out here. I ha' summat to say to yo'."

"Yo' wunnot come in?" she asked.

"Nay. What I ha' to say mowt waken th' young un."

She stepped out without another word, and closed the door quietly behind
her.

There was the faintest possible light in the sky, the first tint of
dawn, and it showed even to his brutal eyes all the beauty of her face
and figure as she stood motionless, the dripping rain falling upon her;
there was so little suggestion of fear a