olithic men who built them may have laughed
at the desperate weather of their day; and the cross beside Blanchard's
gate, though an infant in age beside them, being fashioned of like
material, similarly endured. Of more lasting substance was this stone
than an iron tongue stuck into it to latch the gate, for the metal
fretted fast and shed rust in an orange streak upon the granite.

Where first this relic had risen, when yet its craftsman's work was
perfect and before the centuries had diminished its just proportions, no
living man might say. Martin Grimbal suspected that it had marked a
meeting-place, indicated some Cistercian way, commemorated a notable
deed, or served to direct the moorland pilgrim upon his road to that
trinity of great monasteries which flourished aforetime at Plympton, at
Tavistock, and at Buckland of the Monks; but between its first uprising
and its last, a duration of many years doubtless extended.

The antiquary's purpose had been to rescue the relic, judge, by close
study of the hidden part, to what date it might be assigned, then
investigate the history of Newtake Farm, and endeavour to trace the
cross if possible. After his second repulse, however, and following upon
a conversation with Phoebe, whom he met at Chagford, Martin permitted
the matter to remain in abeyance. Now he set about regaining Will's
friendship'in a gradual and natural manner. That done, he trusted to
disinter the coveted granite at some future date and set it up on
sanctified ground in Chagford churchyard, if the true nature of the
relic justified that course. For the present, however, he designed no
step, for his purpose was to visit the Channel Islands early in the new
year, that he might study their testimony to prehistoric times.

A winter, to cite whose parallel men looked back full twenty years,
still held the land, though February had nearly run. Blanchard daily
debated the utmost possibility of his resources with Phoebe, and fought
the inclement weather for his early lambs. Such light as came into life
at Newtake was furnished by little Will, who danced merrily through ice
and snow, like a scarlet flower in his brilliant coat. The cold pleased
him; he trod the slippery duck pond in triumph, his bread-and-milk never
failed. To Phoebe her maternal right in the infant seemed recompense
sufficient for all those tribulations existence just now brought with
it; from which conviction resulted her steady courage and cheer