Black Heber never swore; it was against his particular assortment of principles. But his lips moved as he passed out of earshot. He was on the nearest way to Talgwynne, and he knew that he must overtake his cousin if she were on foot; he knew also, from Mrs. Job's story of the broken cup, that she had not started homewards at once. It was not likely that she would tell him the truth, but he had a mad hope of wresting it from her; how, he did not know. At any rate, he might gather something from her bearing. He would be very cautious. At last he saw her ahead of him. She did not hear his approach on the turf until he was close to her. Her heart beat tumultuously as they walked on together. She could not understand why he had avoided her only to pursue her afterwards. The silence by which each was seeking to compel the other's speech was broken by the shepherd. "You've had no chance to tell me anything, Susannah," he began. "About Catherine? There's nothing to tell. I'm main sorry for ye, that's all. They were gone when uncle and me got home from the fair." "How d'ye know she be gone with Saunders? I went from the door like a fool in my haste, but maybe I'm wiser now." Susannah had provided herself with answers for all emergencies. "She left a bit o' paper with writing on the kitchen table. '_Charles Saunders is come_,' says she, '_an' I'm gone wi' him._' No more nor that. Not a word of thanks to me, either." "What did ye do with it?" exclaimed he, stopping short. "Burnt it." Heber made a smothered exclamation. "But Saunders was at the fair till afternoon," said he, at the end of a long pause, during which neither had looked at the other. "I heard that. I s'pose he came back." To the shepherd's practical mind there were discrepancies of time in Susannah's account that he could not adjust. When he had reached Talgwynne he had found the best part of the fair over; for noon saw business ebb in the little hillside place. His tardy appearance had been hailed with interest, and he was immediately secured to ride a horse for the inspection of a man who, he was told, had been all day in the town. The recollection of these facts sprang up to assort itself very ill with his companion's words. He made up his mind to get to Talgwynne on the first possible chance of absenting himself from his work and to see what he could elicit from his father. He could not tell how far the old man might be in Susannah's confidence. He did not speak of his intention to her, and it struck him, when he turned to take his way up the hill and they stood within sight of the waiting gig, that she made no suggestion of his coming. It was the first time in his recollection of her that she had seen him without pressing him to come soon.