been　happy　enough　here；　or　all　a　stranger　like　John　Ford　himself；　but
  the　two　strains　struggling　for　mastery　seem　to　give　her　no　rest。
  You'll　think　this　a　far…fetched　theory；　but　I　believe　it　to　be　the
  true　one。　　She'll　stand　with　lips　pressed　together；　her　arms　folded
  tight　across　her　narrow　chest；　staring　as　if　she　could　see　beyond　the
  things　round　her；　then　something　catches　her　attention；　her　eyes　will
  grow　laughing；　soft；　or　scornful　all　in　a　minute！　She's　eighteen；
  perfectly　fearless　in　a　boat；　but　you　can't　get　her　to　mount　a　horse…
  …a　sore　subject　with　her　grandfather；　who　spends　most　of　his　day　on　a
  lean；　half…bred　pony；　that　carries　him　like　a　feather；　for　all　his
  weight。
  They　put　me　up　here　as　a　favour　to　Dan　Treffry；　there's　an
  arrangement　of　L。　s。　d。　with　Mrs。　Hopgood　in　the　background。　　They
  aren't　at　all　well　off；　this　is　the　largest　farm　about；　but　it
  doesn't　bring　them　in　much。　　To　look　at　John　Ford；　it　seems
  incredible　he　should　be　short　of　moneyhe's　too　large。
  We　have　family　prayers　at　eight；　then；　breakfastafter　that　freedom
  for　writing　or　anything　else　till　supper　and　evening　prayers。　　At
  midday　one　forages　for　oneself。　　On　Sundays；　two　miles　to　church
  twice；　or　you　get　into　John　Ford's　black　books。。。。　　Dan　Treffry
  himself　is　staying　at　Kingswear。　　He　says　he's　made　his　pile；　it
  suits　him　down　herelike　a　sleep　after　years　of　being　too　wide…
  awake；　he　had　a　rough　time　in　New　Zealand；　until　that　mine　made　his
  fortune。　　You'd　hardly　remember　him；　he　reminds　me　of　his　uncle；　old
  Nicholas　Treffry；　the　same　slow　way　of　speaking；　with　a　hesitation；
  and　a　trick　of　repeating　your　name　with　everything　he　says；　left…
  handed　too；　and　the　same　slow　twinkle　in　his　eyes。　　He　has　a　dark；
  short　beard；　and　red…brown　cheeks；　is　a　little　bald　on　the　temples；
  and　a　bit　grey；　but　hard　as　iron。　　He　rides　over　nearly　every　day；
  attended　by　a　black　spaniel　with　a　wonderful　nose　and　a　horror　of
  petticoats。　　He　has　told　me　lots　of　good　stories　of　John　Ford　in　the
  early　squatter's　times；　his　feats　with　horses　live　to　this　day；　and
  he　was　through　the　Maori　wars；　as　Dan　says；　〃a　man　after　Uncle　Nic's
  own　heart。〃
  They　are　very　good　friends；　and　respect　each　other；　Dan　has　a　great
  admiration　for　the　old　man；　but　the　attraction　is　Pasiance。　　He　talks
  very　little　when　she's　in　the　room；　but　looks　at　her　in　a　sidelong；
  wistful　sort　of　way。　　Pasiance's　conduct　to　him　would　be　cruel　in　any
  one　else；　but　in　her；　one　takes　it　with　a　pinch　of　salt。　　Dan　goes
  off；　but　turns　up　again　as　quiet　and　dogged　as　you　please。
  Last　night；　for　instance；　we　were　sitting　in　the　loggia　after　supper。
  Pasiance　was　fingering　the　strings　of　her　violin；　and　suddenly　Dan　（a
  bold　thing　for　him）　asked　her　to　play。
  〃What！〃　she　said；　〃before　men？　　No；　thank　you！〃
  〃Why　not？〃
  〃Because　I　hate　them。〃
  Down　came　John　Ford's　hand　on　the　wicker　table：　〃You　forget　yourself！
  Go　to　bed！〃
  She　gave　Dan　a　look；　and　went；　we　could　hear　her　playing　in　her
  bedroom；　it　sounded　like　a　dance　of　spirits；　and　just　when　one
  thought　she　had　finished；　out　it　would　break　again　like　a　burst　of
  laughter。　　Presently；　John　Ford　begged　our　pardons　ceremoniously；　and
  stumped　off　indoors。　　The　violin　ceased；　we　heard　his　voice　growling
  at　her；　down　he　came　again。　　Just　as　he　was　settled　in　his　chair
  there　was　a　soft　swish；　and　something　dark　came　falling　through　the
  apple　boughs。　　The　violin！　　You　should　have　seen　his　face！　　Dan　would
  have　picked　the　violin　up；　but　the　old　man　stopped　him。　　Later；　from
  my　bedroom　window；　I　saw　John　Ford　come　out　and　stand　looking　at　the
  violin。　　He　raised　his　foot　as　if　to　stamp　on　it。　　At　last　he　picked
  it　up；　wiped　it　carefully；　and　took　it　in。。。。
  My　room　is　next　to　hers。　　I　kept　hearing　her　laugh；　a　noise　too　as　if
  she　were　dragging　things　about　the　room。　　Then　I　fell　asleep；　but
  woke　with　a　start；　and　went　to　the　window　for　a　breath　of　fresh　air。
  Such　a　black；　breathless　night！　　Nothing　to　be　seen　but　the　twisted；
  blacker　branches；　not　the　faintest　stir　of　leaves；　no　sound　but
  muffled　grunting　from　the　cowhouse；　and　now　and　then　a　faint　sigh。　　I
  had　the　queerest　feeling　of　unrest　and　fear；　the　last　thing　to　expect
  on　such　a　night。　　There　is　something　here　that's　disturbing；　a　sort
  of　suppressed　struggle。　　I've　never　in　my　life　seen　anything　so
  irresponsible　as　this　girl；　or　so　uncompromising　as　the　old　man；　I
  keep　thinking　of　the　way　he　wiped　that　violin。　　It's　just　as　if　a
  spark　would　set　everything　in　a　blaze。　　There's　a　menace　of　tragedy
  orperhaps　it's　only　the　heat；　and　too　much　of　Mother　Hopgood's
  crame。。。。
  II
  〃Tuesday　。
  。。。。。。I've　made　a　new　acquaintance。　　I　was　lying　in　the　orchard；　and
  presently；　not　seeing　me；　he　came　alonga　man　of　middle　height；　with
  a　singularly　good　balance；　and　no　lumberrather　old　blue　clothes；　a
  flannel　shirt；　a　dull　red　necktie；　brown　shoes；　a　cap　with　a　leather
  peak　pushed　up　on　the　forehead。　　Face　long　and　narrow；　bronzed　with　a
  kind　of　pale　burnt…in　brownness；　a　good　forehead。　　A　brown　moustache；
  beard　rather　pointed；　blackening　about　the　cheeks；　his　chin　not
  visible；　but　from　the　beard's　growth　must　be　big；　mouth　I　should
  judge　sensuous。　　Nose　straight　and　blunt；　eyes　grey；　with　an　upward
  look；　not　exactly　frank；　because　defiant；　two　parallel　furrows　down
  each　cheek；　one　from　the　inner　corner　of　the　eye；　one　from　the
  nostril；　age　perhaps　thirty…five。　　About　the　face；　attitude；
  movements；　something　immensely　vital；　adaptable；　daring；　and
  unprincipled。
  He　stood　in　front　of　the　loggia；　biting　his　fingers；　a　kind　of
  nineteenth…century　buccaneer；　and　I　wondered　what　he　was　doing　in
  this　galley。　They　say　you　can　tell　a　man　of　Kent　or　a　Somersetshire
  man；　certainly　you　can　tell　a　Yorkshire　man；　and　this　fellow　could
  only　have　been　a　man　of　Devon；　one　of　the　two　main　types　found　in
  this　county。　　He　whistled；　and　out　came　Pasiance　in　a　geranium…
  coloured　dress；　looking　like　some　tall　poppyyou　know　the　slight
  droop　of　a　poppy's　head；　and　the　way　the　wind　sways　its　stem。。。。　She
  is　a　human　poppy；　her　fuzzy　dark　hair　is　like　a　poppy's　lustreless
  black　heart；　she　has　a　poppy's　tantalising　attraction　and　repulsion；
  something　fatal；　or　rather　fateful。　　She　came　walking　up　to　my　new
  friend；　then　caught　sight　of　me；　and　stopped　dead。
  〃That；〃　she　said　to　me；　〃is　Zachary　Pearse。　　This；〃　she　said　to　him；
  〃is　our　lodger。〃　　She　said　it　with　a　wonderful　soft　malice。　　She
  wanted　to　scratch　me；　and　she　scratched。　　Half　an　hour　later　I　was　in
  the　yard；　when　up　came　this　fellow　Pearse。
  〃Glad　to　know　you；〃　he　said；　looking　thoughtfully　at　the　pigs。
  〃You're　a　writer；　aren't　you？〃
  〃A　sort　of　one；〃　I　said。
  〃If　by　any　chance；〃　he　said　suddenly；　〃you're　looking　for　a　job；　I
  could　put　something　in　your　way。　　Walk　down　to　the　beach　with　me；　and
  I'll　tell　you；　my　boat's　at　anchor；　smartest　little　craft　in　these
  parts。〃
  It　was　very　hot；　and　I　had　no　desire　whatever　to　go　down　to　the
  beachI　went；　all　the　same。　　We　had　not　gone　far　when　John　Ford　and
  Dan　Treffry　came　into　the　lane。　　Our　friend　seemed　a　little
  disconcerted；　but　soon　recovered　himself。　　We　met　in　the　middle　of
  the　lane；　where　there　was　hardly　room　to　pass。　　John　Ford；　who　looked
  very　haughty；　put　on　his　pince…nez　and　stared　at　Pearse。
  〃Good…day！〃　said　Pearse；　〃fine　weather！　　I've　been　up　to　ask　Pasiance
  to　come　for　a　sail。　　Wednesday　we　thought；　weather　permitting；　this
  gentleman's　coming。　　Perhaps　you'll　come　too；　Mr。　Treffry。　　You've
  never　seen　my　place。　　I'll　give　you　lunch；　and　show　you　my　father。
  He's　worth　a　couple　of　hours'　sail　any　day。〃　　It　was　said　in　such　an
  odd　way　that　one　couldn't　resent　his　impudence。　　John　Ford　was　seized
  with　a　fit　of　wheezing；　and　seemed　on　the　eve　of　an　explosion；　he
  glanced　at　me；　and　checked　himself。
  〃You're　very　good；〃　he　said　icily；　〃my　granddaughter　has　other　things
  to　do。　　You；　gentlemen；　will　please　yourselves〃；　and；　with　a　very
  slight　bow；　he　went　stumping　on　to　the　house。　　Dan　looked　at　me；　and
  I　looked　at　him。
  〃You'll　come？〃　said　Pearse；　rather　wistfully。　　Dan　stammered：　〃Thank
  you；　Mr。　Pearse；　I'm　a　better　man　on　a　horse　than　in　a　boat；　but
  thank　you。〃　　Cornered　in　this　way；　he's　a　shy；　soft…hearted　being。
  Pearse　smiled　his　thanks。　　〃Wednesday；　then；　at　ten　o'clock；　you
  shan't　regret　it。〃
  〃Pertinacious　beggar！〃　I　heard　Dan　mutter　in　his　beard；　and　found
  myself　marching　down　the　lane　again　by　Pearse's　side。　　I　asked　him
  what　he　was　good　enough　to　mean　by　saying　I　was　coming；　without
  having　asked　me。　　He　answered；　unabashed：
  〃You　see；　I'm　not　friends　with　the　old　man；　but　I　knew　he'd　not　be
  impolite　to　you；　so　I　took　the　liberty。〃
  He　has　certainly　a　knack　of　turning　one's　anger　to　curiosity。　　We
  were　down　in　the　combe　now；　the　tide　was　running　out；　and　the　sand
  all　little；　wet；　shining　ridges。　　About　a　quarter　of　a　mile　out　lay　a