f blue, white lines
formed of innumerable knee-breeches, black lines formed of many gaiters,
coming and going in kaleidoscopic change. Who thought of every point in
the line as an isolated man, each dwelling all to himself in the
hermitage of his own mind? One person did, a young man far removed from
the barrow where the Garlands and Miller Loveday stood. The natural
expression of his face was somewhat obscured by the bronzing effects of
rough weather, but the lines of his mouth showed that affectionate
impulses were strong within him--perhaps stronger than judgment well
could regulate. He wore a blue jacket with little brass buttons, and was
plainly a seafaring man.

Meanwhile, in the part of the plain where rose the tumulus on which the
miller had established himself, a broad-brimmed tradesman was elbowing
his way along. He saw Mr. Loveday from the base of the barrow, and
beckoned to attract his attention. Loveday went halfway down, and the
other came up as near as he could.

'Miller,' said the man, 'a letter has been lying at the post-office for
you for the last three days. If I had known that I should see ye here
I'd have brought it along with me.'

The miller thanked him for the news, and they parted, Loveday returning
to the summit. 'What a very strange thing!' he said to Mrs. Garland, who
had looked inquiringly at his face, now very grave. 'That was Budmouth
postmaster, and he says there's a letter for me. Ah, I now call to mind
that there _was_ a letter in the candle three days ago this very night--a
large red one; but foolish-like I thought nothing o't. Who _can_ that
letter be from?'

A letter at this time was such an event for hamleteers, even of the
miller's respectable standing, that Loveday thenceforward was thrown into
a fit of abstraction which prevented his seeing any more of the sham
fight, or the people, or the King. Mrs. Garland imbibed some of his
concern, and suggested that the letter might come from his son Robert.

'I should naturally have thought that,' said Miller Loveday; 'but he
wrote to me only two months ago, and his brother John heard from him
within the last four weeks, when he was just about starting on another
voyage. If you'll pardon me, Mrs. Garland, ma'am, I'll see if there's
any Overcombe man here who is going to Budmouth to-day, so that I may get
the letter by night-time. I cannot possibly go myself.'

So Mr. Loveday left them for awhile; and as they were so nea