diness
with which ill-fortune clung to Newtake and cursed when, on two
quarter-days out of the annual four, another dip had to be made into the
dwindling residue of his uncle's bequest. Some three hundred pounds yet
remained when young Blanchard entered upon a further stage of his
career,--that most fitly recorded as happening within the shadow of a
granite cross.

After long months of absence from home, Martin Grimbal returned, silent,
unsuccessful, and sad. Upon the foundations of facts he had built many
tentative dwelling-places for hope; but all had crumbled, failure
crowned his labours, and as far from the reach of his discovery seemed
the secret of Chris as the secrets of the sacred circles, stone avenues,
and empty, hypaethral chambers of the Moor. Spiritless and bitterly
discouraged, he returned after such labours as Will had dreamed not of;
and his life, succeeding upon this deep disappointment, seemed far
advanced towards its end in Martin's eyes--a journey whose brightest
incidents, happiest places of rest, most precious companions were all
left behind. This second death of hope aged the man in truth and sowed
his hair with grey. Now only a melancholy memory of one very beautiful
and very sad remained to him. Chris indeed promised to return, but he
told himself that such a woman had never left an unhappy mother for such
period of time if power to come home still belonged to her. Then,
surveying the past, he taxed himself heavily with a deliberate and cruel
share in it. Why had he taken the advice of Blanchard and delayed his
offer of work to Hicks? He told himself that it was because he knew such
a step would definitely deprive him of Chris for ever; and therein he
charged himself with offences that his nature was above committing. Then
he burst into bitter blame of Will, and at a weak moment--for nothing is
weaker than the rare weakness of a strong man--he childishly upbraided
the farmer with that fateful advice concerning Clement, and called down
upon his head deep censure for the subsequent catastrophe. Will, as may
be imagined, proved not slow to resent such an attack with heart and
voice. A great heat of vain recrimination followed, and the men broke
into open strife.

Sick with himself at this pitiable lapse, shaken in his self-respect,
desolate, unsettled, and uncertain of the very foundations on which he
had hitherto planted his life, the elder man existed through a black
month, then braced himself