m his face. The madman looked
guiltily at his hands, and seeing the condition in which they were, he
made straight for the Backwater, passing us within (I declare) four
yards. But the bracken was thick and tall, and we lay close, so that
Jeremy failed to see us. Besides, his mind was evidently ill at ease.

The voice from the direction of Deep Moat Grange continued to call:
"Jeremy! Jeremy!" He did not reply, and we could hear him mutter,
"What shall I say? What shall I say if she finds out?"

Then, having pulled round the long tails of his coat, one after the
other, he dried his hands carefully, held them up to see that they were
clean, and took his way up the side of the Backwater toward the
drawbridge, whistling as he went.

For me, I was scared out of a year's growth. But the Hayfork Minister,
lifting himself out of the ferns, and dusting lightly the knees of his
black cord trousers, pointed to the great flagstone on which the turf
showed ragged edges, and said gravely: "The secret is there. That is
the other end of the tunnel!"

He meant, I felt sure, to send me in again, in spite of all that we had
seen.

As for me, however, I resolved to keep very clear of the Hayfork
Minister. He was a nice man, Mr. Ablethorpe, and a pleasure to know.
But to be in a drain pipe for his sake, with the fear of Mad Jeremy
meeting one face to face half-way up, put too high a price on his
friendship. I resolved, therefore, in future to cut Mr. Ablethorpe's
acquaintance.

CHAPTER XIII

MEYSIE'S BAIRNS

At the time I had no idea how difficult this would be. But at any rate
I wanted to find out for certain what it was that I had found. He
could give me no other answer than that I would know in good time, and
that in the meantime we were going to old Caleb Fergusson's for tea.

Now I make no objections to tea at any time--that is, a proper
sit-down, spread-table, country tea--not one of those agonies at which
you do tricks with a cup of tea, a plate, the edge of a chair, and a
snippet of bread. I knew that at the Fergusson's I would find plenty
to eat and drink.

We slid back through the woods, rising higher all the time as the land
trended toward the moor. Then out and away across the road I could see
far away to the right the roofs of Breckonside, shining like silver
after a shower which must have passed over them, the winding Brom
Water, the threaded roads, pale pink in colour, the dry stone dykes
divi