but, oh----'

She began to cry, and then cheered herself up, and swallowed down
her sobs.

'Kester,' she went on, hastily, 'Charley Kinraid isn't dead; dost ta
know? He's alive, and he were here o' Tuesday--no, Monday, was it? I
cannot tell--but he were here!'

'A knowed as he weren't dead. Every one is a-speaking on it. But a
didn't know as thee'd ha' seen him. A took comfort i' thinkin' as
thou'd ha' been wi' thy mother a' t' time as he were i' t' place.'

'Then he's gone?' said Sylvia.

'Gone; ay, days past. As far as a know, he but stopped a' neet. A
thought to mysel' (but yo' may be sure a said nought to nobody),
he's heerd as our Sylvia were married, and has put it in his pipe,
and ta'en hissel' off to smoke it.'

'Kester!' said Sylvia, leaning forwards, and whispering. 'I saw him.
He was here. Philip saw him. Philip had known as he wasn't dead a'
this time!'

Kester stood up suddenly.

'By goom, that chap has a deal t' answer for.'

A bright red spot was on each of Sylvia's white cheeks; and for a
minute or so neither of them spoke.

Then she went on, still whispering out her words.

'Kester, I'm more afeared than I dare tell any one: can they ha'
met, think yo'? T' very thought turns me sick. I told Philip my
mind, and took a vow again' him--but it would be awful to think on
harm happening to him through Kinraid. Yet he went out that morning,
and has niver been seen or heard on sin'; and Kinraid were just fell
again' him, and as for that matter, so was I; but----'

The red spot vanished as she faced her own imagination.

Kester spoke.

'It's a thing as can be easy looked into. What day an' time were it
when Philip left this house?'

'Tuesday--the day she died. I saw him in her room that morning
between breakfast and dinner; I could a'most swear to it's being
close after eleven. I mind counting t' clock. It was that very morn
as Kinraid were here.'

'A'll go an' have a pint o' beer at t' King's Arms, down on t'
quay-side; it were theere he put up at. An' a'm pretty sure as he
only stopped one night, and left i' t' morning betimes. But a'll go
see.'

'Do,' said Sylvia, 'and go out through t' shop; they're all watching
and watching me to see how I take things; and daren't let on about
t' fire as is burning up my heart. Coulson is i' t' shop, but he'll
not notice thee like Phoebe.'

By-and-by Kester came back. It seemed as though Sylvia had never
stirred; she looked eagerly at him, but did