But the great morning came at last, and Will, rising, with the curious
thought that he would never sleep in the middle of his bed again, donned
his best dark-brown velveteens and a new pair of leathern gaiters, then
walked out into the air, where Chown was milking the cows. The day
dawned as brightly as the events it heralded, and Will, knowing that his
mother and Chris would be early at Newtake, strolled out to meet them.
Over against the farm rose moorland crowned by stone, and from off their
granite couches grey mists blushing to red now rose with lazy
deliberation and vanished under the sun's kiss. A vast, sweet,
diamond-twinkling freshness filled the Moor; blue shadows lay in the
dewy coombs, and sun-fires gleamed along the heather ridges. No
heath-bell as yet had budded, but the flame of the whins splashed many
undulations, and the tender foliage of the whortleberry, where it grew
on exposed granite, was nearly scarlet and flashed jewel-bright in the
rich texture of the waste. Will saw his cattle pass to their haunts,
sniffed the savour of them on the wind, and enjoyed the thought of being
their possessor; then his eyes turned to the valley and the road which
wound upwards from it under great light. A speck at length appeared
three parts of a mile distant and away started Blauchard, springing down
the hillside to intercept it. His heart sang within him; here was a
glorious day that could never come again, and he meant to live it
gloriously.
"Marnin', mother! Marnin', Chris! Let me get in between 'e. Breakfast
will be most ready by time we'm home. I knawed you d keep your word such
a rare fashion day!"
Will soon sat between the two women, while Mrs. Blanchard's pony
regulated its own pace and three tongues chattered behind it. A dozen
brown paper parcels occupied the body of the little cart, for Damaris
had insisted that the wedding feast should be of her providing. It was
proposed that Chris and her mother should spend the day at Newtake and
depart after drinking tea; while Phoebe was to arrive in a fly at one
o'clock.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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