d his laborious life
swept suddenly into a bright region that he had gazed into longingly
aforetime and lost for ever. He fought with himself to keep down this
rosy-fledged hope; but it leapt in him, a young giant born at a word.
The significance of the freedom of Chris staggered him. To find her was
the cry of his heart, and, as Will had done before him, he straightway
set out upon a systematic attempt to discover the missing girl. Of such
uncertain temper was Blanchard's mind at this season, however, that he
picked a quarrel out of Martin's design, and questioned the antiquary's
right to busy himself upon an undertaking which the brother of Chris had
already failed to accomplish.

"She belonged to me, not to you," he said, "an' I done all a man could
do to find her. See her again we sha'n't, that's my feelin', despite
what she wrote to me and left so mysterious on the window. Madness comed
awver her, I reckon, an' she've taken her life, an' theer ban't no call
for you or any other man to rip up the matter again. Let it bide as 't
is. Such black doin's be best set to rest."

But, while Martin did not seek or desire Will's advice in the matter, he
was surprised at the young farmer's attitude, and it extracted something
in the nature of a confession from him, for there was little, he told
himself, that need longer be hidden from the woman's brother.

"I can speak now, at least to you, Will," he said. "I can tell you, at
any rate. Chris was all the world to me--all the world, and accident
kept me from knowing she belonged to another man until too late. Now
that he has gone, poor fellow, she almost seems within reach again. You
know what it is to love. I can't and won't believe she has taken her
life. Something tells me she lives, and I am not going to take any man's
word about it. I must satisfy myself."

Thereupon Blanchard became more reasonable, withdrew his objections and
expressed a very heartfelt hope that Martin might succeed where he had
failed. The lover entered methodically upon his quest and conducted the
inquiry with a rigorous closeness and scrupulous patience quite beyond
Will's power despite his equally earnest intentions. For six months
Martin pursued his hope, and few saw or heard anything of him during
that period.

Once, during the early summer, Will chanced upon John Grimbal at the
first meeting of the otter hounds in Teign Vale; but though the younger
purposely edged near his enemy where he stood