When the time came for Mary to start homewards it was snowing fast, and she did not like the prospect. Although it was not much after three o'clock, the outlook was exceedingly dark; there was an unpleasant silence upon the moor, and the snowflakes were larger and falling thickly. But the pony was harnessed to the unsteady conveyance, and Peter was waiting; before Mary could utter a word of protest, he had bundled her in and they were off. "Twould have paid me better to bide home," said Mary. "Do'ye sit quiet," Peter growled. Then he added, "Where's the shillun?" "There now, doan't ye worry about the shillun," said Mary; "I'll give it ye when I'm safe and sound to home wi' no bones broke." "Shillun be poor pay vor driving this weather," said her business-like brother. Now and again a light appeared from one of the cottages. The pony struggled on with its head down, while the silence seemed to grow more unearthly, and the darkness increased, and the snow became a solid descending mass. The road between the two Tavies is not easy in winter under favorable conditions, and on that night it was to become practically impassable. When the last light of Peter Tavy the village had vanished, Peter Tavy the man had about as much idea where he was as if he had just dropped out of the moon. "Where be'st going?" shrieked Mary, as the cart swerved violently to the right. "Taking a short cut," explained Peter. "Dear life!" gasped Mary, "he'm pixy-led." "I b'ain't," said Peter; "I be driving straight vor Mary Tavy." Had he said straight for the edge of Tavy Cleave he would have spoken the truth. The pony knew perfectly well that they were off the road, and the sensible beast would have returned to the right way had it not been for Peter, who kept pulling its head towards the cleave. Left to itself the pony would have returned to Peter Tavy, having quite enough sense to know that it was impossible to reach the sister village on such a night. Its master, with his fatal knack of blundering, tugged at the reins with one hand and plied the whip with the other. The snow was like a wall on every side; the clouds seemed to be dissolving upon them; suddenly the silence was broken by the roaring of the Tavy below. "Us be going to kingdom come," shrieked Mary. "Us b'ain't," said Peter; "us be going to Mary Tavy."