thick like a washin'-day
everywheers, an' a terrible braave sight o' rain unshed in the elements
yet."

"'T will pass, sure as Noah seed a rainbow."

"Ess, 't will pass; but Monks Barton's like to be washed to Fingle
Bridge fust. Oceans o' work waitin', but what can us be at? Theer ban't
a bit o' land you couldn't most swim across."

"Widespread trouble, sure 'nough--all awver the South Hams, high an'
low."

"By the same token, I met Will Blanchard an hour agone. Gwaine in the
dispensary, he was. The li'l bwoy's queer--no gert ill, but a bit of a
tisseck on the lungs. He got playin' 'bout, busy as a rook, in the dirt,
and catched cold."

Miller Lyddon was much concerned at this bad news.

"Oh, my gude God!" he exclaimed, "that's worse hearin' than all or any
you could have fetched down. What do Doctor say?"

"Wasn't worth while to call un up, so Will thought. Ban't nothin' to
kill a beetle, or I lay the mother of un would have Doctor mighty soon.
Will reckoned to get un a dose of physic--an' a few sweeties. Nature's
all for the young buds. He won't come to no hurt."

"Fust thing morning send a lad riding to Newtake," ordered Mr. Lyddon.
"Theer's no sleep for me to-night, no, nor any more at all till I hear
tell the dear tibby-lamb's well again. 'Pon my soul, I wonder that
headstrong man doan't doctor the cheel hisself."

"Maybe he will. Ban't nothin 's beyond him."

"I'll go silly now. If awnly Mrs. Blanchard was up theer wi' Phoebe."

"Doan't you grizzle about it. The bwoy be gwaine to make auld bones
yet--hard as a nut he be. Give un years an' he'll help carry you to the
graave in the fulness of time, I promise 'e," said Billy, in his
comforting way.

CHAPTER VI

THE CROSS UPREARED

Mr. Blee had but reported Will correctly, and it was not until some
hours later that the child at Newtake caused his parents any alarm. Then
he awoke in evident suffering, and Will, at Phoebe's frantic entreaty,
arose and was soon galloping down through the night for Doctor Parsons.

His thundering knock fell upon the physician's door, and a moment later
a window above him was opened.

"Why can't you ring the bell instead of making that fiendish noise, and
waking the whole house? Who is it?"

"Blanchard, from Newtake."

"What's wrong?"

"'T is my bwoy. He've got something amiss with his breathing parts by
the looks of it."

"Ah."

"Doan't delay. Gert fear comed to his mother under the darkness, 'cause
h