place　sat　two　small　boys；　idle；　and　good　as　gold；　on　the　other　sat　a　stout；　light…eyed；　red…faced　youth　with　hair　and　lashes　the　colour　of　the　tow　he　was　running　through　the　barrel　of　a　gun；　between　them　Mrs。　Narracombe　dreamily　stirred　some　savoury…scented　stew　in　a　large　pot。　　Two　other　youths；　oblique…eyed；　dark…haired；　rather　sly…　faced；　like　the　two　little　boys；　were　talking　together　and　lolling　against　the　wall；　and　a　short；　elderly；　clean…shaven　man　in　corduroys；　seated　in　the　window；　was　conning　a　battered　journal。　　The　girl　Megan　seemed　the　only　active　creature…drawing　cider　and　passing　with　the　jugs　from　cask　to　table。　　Seeing　them　thus　about　to　eat；　Garton　said：
  〃Ah！　　If　you'll　let　us；　we'll　come　back　when　supper's　over；〃　and　without　waiting　for　an　answer　they　withdrew　again　to　the　parlour。　But　the　colour　in　the　kitchen；　the　warmth；　the　scents；　and　all　those　faces；　heightened　the　bleakness　of　their　shiny　room；　and　they　resumed　their　seats　moodily。
  〃Regular　gipsy　type；　those　boys。　　There　was　only　one　Saxonthe　fellow　cleaning　the　gun。　　That　girl　is　a　very　subtle　study　psychologically。〃
  Ashurst's　lips　twitched。　　Garton　seemed　to　him　an　ass　just　then。　Subtle　study！　　She　was　a　wild　flower。　　A　creature　it　did　you　good　to　look　at。　　Study！
  Garton　went　on：
  〃Emotionally　she　would　be　wonderful。　　She　wants　awakening。〃
  〃Are　you　going　to　awaken　her？〃
  Garton　looked　at　him　and　smiled。　　'How　coarse　and　English　you　are！'　that　curly　smile　seemed　saying。
  And　Ashurst　puffed　his　pipe。　　Awaken　her！　That　fool　had　the　best　opinion　of　himself！　　He　threw　up　the　window　and　leaned　out。　　Dusk　had　gathered　thick。　　The　farm　buildings　and　the　wheel…house　were　all　dim　and　bluish；　the　apple　trees　but　a　blurred　wilderness；　the　air　smelled　of　woodsmoke　from　the　kitchen　fire。　　One　bird　going　to　bed　later　than　the　others　was　uttering　a　half…hearted　twitter；　as　though　surprised　at　the　darkness。　　From　the　stable　came　the　snuffle　and　stamp　of　a　feeding　horse。　　And　away　over　there　was　the　loom　of　the　moor；　and　away　and　away　the　shy　stars　which　had　not　as　yet　full　light；　pricking　white　through　the　deep　blue　heavens。　　A　quavering　owl　hooted。　Ashurst　drew　a　deep　breath。　　What　a　night　to　wander　out　in！　　A　padding　of　unshod　hoofs　came　up　the　lane；　and　three　dim；　dark　shapes　passedponies　on　an　evening　march。　　Their　heads；　black　and　fuzzy；　showed　above　the　gate。　　At　the　tap　of　his　pipe；　and　a　shower　of　little　sparks；　they　shied　round　and　scampered。　　A　bat　went　fluttering　past；　uttering　its　almost　inaudible　〃chip；　chip。〃　　Ashurst　held　out　his　hand；　on　the　upturned　palm　he　could　feel　the　dew。　　Suddenly　from　overhead　he　heard　little　burring　boys'　voices；　little　thumps　of　boots　thrown　down；　and　another　voice；　crisp　and　softthe　girl's　putting　them　to　bed；　no　doubt；　and　nine　clear　words　〃No；　Rick；　you　can't　have　the　cat　in　bed〃；　then　came　a　skirmish　of　giggles　and　gurgles；　a　soft　slap；　a　laugh　so　low　and　pretty　that　it　made　him　shiver　a　little。　　A　blowing　sound；　and　the　glim　of　the　candle　which　was　fingering　the　dusk　above；　went　out；　silence　reigned。　　Ashurst　withdrew　into　the　room　and　sat　down；　his　knee　pained　him；　and　his　soul　felt　gloomy。
  〃You　go　to　the　kitchen；〃　he　said；　〃I'm　going　to　bed。〃
  3
  For　Ashurst　the　wheel　of　slumber　was　wont　to　turn　noiseless　and　slick　and　swift；　but　though　he　seemed　sunk　in　sleep　when　his　companion　came　up；　he　was　really　wide　awake；　and　long　after　Carton；　smothered　in　the　other　bed　of　that　low…roofed　room；　was　worshipping　darkness　with　his　upturned　nose；　he　heard　the　owls。　　Barring　the　discomfort　of　his　knee；　it　was　not　unpleasantthe　cares　of　life　did　not　loom　large　in　night　watches　for　this　young　man。　　In　fact　he　had　none；　just　enrolled　a　barrister；　with　literary　aspirations；　the　world　before　him；　no　father　or　mother；　and　four　hundred　a　year　of　his　own。　　Did　it　matter　where　he　went；　what　he　did；　or　when　he　did　it？　　His　bed；　too；　was　hard；　and　this　preserved　him　from　fever。　　He　lay；　sniffing　the　scent　of　the　night　which　drifted　into　the　low　room　through　the　open　casement　close　to　his　head。　　Except　for　a　definite　irritation　with　his　friend；　natural　when　you　have　tramped　with　a　man　for　three　days；　Ashurst's　memories　and　visions　that　sleepless　night　were　kindly　and　wistful　and　exciting。　　One　vision；　specially　clear　and　unreasonable；　for　he　had　not　even　been　conscious　of　noting　it；　was　the　face　of　the　youth　cleaning　the　gun；　its　intent；　stolid；　yet　startled　uplook　at　the　kitchen　doorway；　quickly　shifted　to　the　girl　carrying　the　cider　jug。　　This　red；　blue…eyed；　light…lashed；　tow…haired　face　stuck　as　firmly　in　his　memory　as　the　girl's　own　face；　so　dewy　and　simple。　　But　at　last；　in　the　square　of　darkness　through　the　uncurtained　casement；　he　saw　day　coming；　and　heard　one　hoarse　and　sleepy　caw。　　Then　followed　silence；　dead　as　ever；　till　the　song　of　a　blackbird；　not　properly　awake；　adventured　into　the　hush。　　And；　from　staring　at　the　framed　brightening　light；　Ashurst　fell　asleep。
  Next　day　his　knee　was　badly　swollen；　the　walking　tour　was　obviously　over。　　Garton；　due　back　in　London　on　the　morrow；　departed　at　midday　with　an　ironical　smile　which　left　a　scar　of　irritationhealed　the　moment　his　loping　figure　vanished　round　the　corner　of　the　steep　lane。　All　day　Ashurst　rested　his　knee；　in　a　green…painted　wooden　chair　on　the　patch　of　grass　by　the　yew…tree　porch；　where　the　sunlight　distilled　the　scent　of　stocks　and　gillyflowers；　and　a　ghost　of　scent　from　the　flowering…currant　bushes。　　Beatifically　he　smoked；　dreamed；　watched。
  A　farm　in　spring　is　all　birth…young　things　coming　out　of　bud　and　shell；　and　human　beings　watching　over　the　process　with　faint　excitement　feeding　and　tending　what　has　been　born。　　So　still　the　young　man　sat；　that　a　mother…goose；　with　stately　cross…footed　waddle；　brought　her　six　yellow…necked　grey…backed　goslings　to　strop　their　little　beaks　against　the　grass　blades　at　his　feet。　　Now　and　again　Mrs。　Narracombe　or　the　girl　Megan　would　come　and　ask　if　he　wanted　anything；　and　he　would　smile　and　say：　〃Nothing；　thanks。　　It's　splendid　here。〃　　Towards　tea…time　they　came　out　together；　bearing　a　long　poultice　of　some　dark　stuff　in　a　bowl；　and　after　a　long　and　solemn　scrutiny　of　his　swollen　knee；　bound　it　on。　　When　they　were　gone；　he　thought　of　the　girl's　soft　〃Oh！〃of　her　pitying　eyes；　and　the　little　wrinkle　in　her　brow。　　And　again　he　felt　that　unreasoning　irritation　against　his　departed　friend；　who　had　talked　such　rot　about　her。　　When　she　brought　out　his　tea；　he　said：
  〃How　did　you　like　my　friend；　Megan？〃
  She　forced　down　her　upper　lip；　as　if　afraid　that　to　smile　was　not　polite。　　〃He　was　a　funny　gentleman；　he　made　us　laugh。　　I　think　he　is　very　clever。〃
  〃What　did　he　say　to　make　you　laugh？〃
  〃He　said　I　was　a　daughter　of　the　bards。　　What　are　they？〃
  〃Welsh　poets；　who　lived　hundreds　of　years　ago。〃
  〃Why　am　I　their　daughter；　please？〃
  〃He　meant　that　you　were　the　sort　of　girl　they　sang　about。〃
  She　wrinkled　her　brows。　　〃I　think　he　likes　to　joke。　　Am　I？〃
  〃Would　you　believe　me；　if　I　told　you？〃
  〃Oh；　yes。〃
  〃Well；　I　think　he　was　right。〃
  She　smiled。
  And　Ashurst　thought：　'You　are　a　pretty　thing！'
  〃He　said；　too；　that　Joe　was　a　Saxon　type。　　What　would　that　be？〃
  〃Which　is　Joe？　　With　the　blue　eyes　and　red　face？〃
  〃Yes。　　My　uncle's　nephew。〃
  〃Not　your　cousin；　then？〃
  〃No。〃
  〃Well；　he　meant　that　Joe　was　like　the　men　who　came　over　to　England　about　fourteen　hundred　years　ago；　and　conquered　it。〃
  〃Oh！　　I　know　about　them；　but　is　he？〃
  〃Garton's　crazy　about　that　sort　of　thing；　but　I　must　say　Joe　does　look　a　bit　Early　Saxon。〃
  〃Yes。〃
  That　〃Yes〃　tickled　Ashurst。　　It　was　so　crisp　and　graceful；　so　conclusive；　and　politely　acquiescent　in　what　was　evidently。　　Greek　to　her。
  〃He　said　that　all　the　other　boys　were　regular　gipsies。　　He　should　not　have　said　that。　　My　aunt　laughed；　but　she　didn't　like　it；　of　course；　and　my　cousins　were　angry。　　Uncle　was　a　farmerfarmers　are　not　gipsies。　　It　is　wrong　to　hurt　people。〃
  Ashurst　wanted　to　take　her　hand　and　give　it　a　squeeze；　but　he　only　answered：
  〃Quite　right；　Megan。　　By　the　way；　I　heard　you　putting　the　little　ones　to　bed　last　night。〃
  She　flushed　a　little。　　〃Please　to　drink　your　teait　is　getting　cold。　Shall　I　get　you　some　fresh？〃
  〃Do　you　ever　have　time　to　do　anything　for　yourself？〃
  〃Oh！　　Yes。〃
  〃I've　been　watching；　but　I　haven't　seen　it　yet。
  She　wrinkled　her　brows　in　a　puzzled　frown；　and　her　colour　deepened。
  When　she　was　gone；　Ashurst　thought：　'Did　she　think　I　was　chaffing　her？　　I　wouldn't　for　the　world！'　He　was　at　that　age　when　to　some　men　〃Beauty's　a　flower；〃　as　the　poet　says；　and　inspires　in　them　the　thoughts　of　chivalry。　　Never　very　conscious　of　his　surroundings；　it　was　some　time　before　he　was　aware　that　the　youth　whom　Garton　had　called　〃a　Saxon　type〃　was　standing　outside　the　stable　door；　and　a　fine　bit　of　colour　he　made　in　his　soiled　brown　velvet…cords；　muddy　gaiters；　and　blue　shirt；　red…armed；　red…faced；　the　sun　turning　his　hair　from　tow　to　flax；　immovably　stolid；　persistent；　unsmiling　he　stood。　　Then；　seeing　Ashurst　looking　at　him；　he　crossed　the　yard　at　that　gait　of　the　young　countryman　always　ashamed　not　to　be　slow　and　heavy…dwelling　on　each　leg；　and　disappeared　round　the　end　of　the　house　towards　the　kitchen　entrance。　　A　chi