“Ye dwawnt mean no harm to the bwoys ef so be as I tellee?” she answered tentatively. “No, indeed,” answered Bride earnestly. “I want to keep them from harm all I can. I am so terribly afraid they are running into it themselves. I hoped I should be in time to stop it. Oh, I fear I am too late!” “Crimminy!” ejaculated the old woman, with admiration in her voice and eyes, “ef yu came to try an’ stop they bwoys from mischief, yu are a righy bold un!--that yu be! But ’tidden no use tu argufy widden. I did go for tu try mysen: but twarn’t no use. Et gwoeth agin the grain o’ men-folk tu listen tu a woman--let alone a bit of a gurl like yu, my laady.” “I think they would have listened to me if I could have found them in time,” said Bride softly, with a great regret in her eyes. “You mean they have all gone off to join the rioters over at Pentreath?” “They’ve abin tu Pentreath ever sin’ yestereen. Yu’ve coom tu late, my pretty laady. Du ee go back now. ’Tidden no place for yu heer. What ud his Graace say ef he heard you was tu St. Bride’s at this time o’ night?” The woman was so manifestly uneasy that the girl suspected something, though she knew not what. As she stood looking into the fire, Mother Clat still urging her to be gone, it suddenly occurred to her that possibly the rioters had other plans than those whispered designs against the mills of Pentreath. Had not her own father angered one section of the community by the introduction of machinery upon the land? And when the spirit of revolt was aroused and well whetted by scenes of outrage, might not one lead to others? Looking straight at the old woman with the grave direct glance which made this girl a power sometimes with those about her, she asked clearly and steadily-- “Do you mean that you are expecting the men back? that they are bent on doing mischief here? Do not try and deceive me. It is always best to speak the truth.” The old woman cowered before the girl, as she never cowered in the midst of the rude rough men, even when they were in their cups, and threatened her with rough ferocity. “Yu nidden be glumpy wi’ I,” she half whimpered, “I an’t adued nawt but try to keep un back. I twold un it ud coom tu no gude. They’d better letten bide. But I be terrabul aveared they means mischief. It’s awl along o’ that Zaul. He’ve abin arufyin’, and aggin’ un on, and now they du zay as ’e’s leadin’ un the dowl on’y knaws wheer; and they’re fair ’tosticated wi’t all!” Bride started a little, as though something had stung her, and a look of keen pain came into her face. “Saul,” she said softly, “Abner’s boy! Ah! what a sorrow it will be for him! And that is Eustace’s doing! It was he who is responsible, not the poor hot-headed youth himself. O Eustace! Eustace! will you ever see the danger of the path you are treading, and the peril into which you are leading others?”