your word," answered Will hotly, "an' if you didn't open your
ugly mouth so wide, an' shaw such a 'mazing poor crop o' teeth same
time, me an' Miller might come to onderstanding. I be here to see him,
not you."

"Gar! you 'm a beast of a bwoy, looked at anyhow, an' I wouldn't have
no dealin's with 'e for money," snorted the old man.

"Theer we'll leave it then, Blanchard," said Mr. Lyddon, as Will turned
his back upon the last speaker without answering him. "Go your way an'
try to be a better man; but doan't ax me to forget what 's passed--no,
nor forgive it, not yet. I'll come to a Christian sight of it some day,
God willin'; but it 's all I can say that I bear you no ill-will."

"An' I'm beholden enough for that. You wait an' keep your eye on me.
I'll shaw you what's in me yet. I'll surprise 'e, I promise. Nobody in
these paarts 'cept mother, knaws what 's in me. But, wi'out boastful
words, I'll prove it. Because, Miller, I may assure 'e I'm a man as have
thought a lot in my time 'bout things in general."

"Ess, you'm a deep thinker, I doan't doubt. Now best to go; an', mind,
no dealins wi' Phoebe, for that I won't stand."

"I've thought that out, tu. I'll give 'e my word of honour 'pon that."

"Best to seek work t'other side the Moor, if you ax me. Then you'll be
out the way."

"As to that, I'd guessed maybe Martin Grimbal, as have proved a gert
friend to me an' be quite o' my way o' thinking, might offer garden work
while I looked round. Theer ban't a spark o' pride in me--tu much sense,
I hope, for that."

The miller sighed.

"You've done a far-reachin' thing, as hits a man from all sorts o'
plaaces, like the echo in Teign Valley. I caan't see no end to it yet."

"Martin Grimbal's took on Wat Widdicombe, so you needn't fule yourself
he'll give 'e work," snapped Mr. Blee.

"Well, theer be others."

And then that sudden smile, half sly, half sweet, leapt to Will's eyes
and brightened all his grave face, as the sun gladdens a grey sky after
rain.

"Look now, Miller Lyddon, why for shouldn't you, the biggest man to
Chagford, give me a bit of work? I ban't no caddlin'[5] chap, an' for
you--by God, I'd dig a mountain flat if you axed me!"

[5] _Caddling_ = loafing, idling.

"Well, I be gormed!" gasped Billy. It was a condition, though whether
physical or mental he only knew, to which Will reduced Mr. Blee upon
every occasion of their meeting.

"You hold your jaw an' let me talk to Mr. Lyddon. 'Ti