Mary Dillon did the greater part of the talking on the way home, Gartram saying scarcely a word, but making great use of his eyes, to see how Glyddyr took the unpleasant _contretemps_. "And just after what I had said to him," muttered Gartram. "The insolent young scoundrel! The miserable, contemptible pauper! How dare he?" But Glyddyr's behaviour was perfect, and excited Gartram's wonder. "He can't have seen what I did," he thought, "or he would never talk to her so coolly." For, ignoring everything, and as if he was blind to what had passed, Glyddyr dashed at once into a series of inquiries about Danmouth, and the weather in the winter. "Do the storms affect the place much?" he said, looking at Claude. "Knock the pots off sometimes, and always wash the slates clean," said Mary, before Claude could reply. "Not pleasant for the inhabitants," said Glyddyr, after giving Mary a quick, amused glance before turning again to Claude. "But at the Fort, of course, you are too high up for the waves to reach?" "Salt spray coats all the windows, and makes the walls shine," interposed Mary. "What will he think of me?" thought Claude; and then she wondered that she did not feel sorry, but that all the time, in spite of her father's fiercely sullen looks, a peculiar kind of joy seemed to pervade her breast. Glyddyr talked on, but he was completely talked down by Mary, who felt that the kindest thing she could do was to draw every one's attention from her cousin, till they had passed through the little town, and nearly reached the Fort, where they were met by a rough-looking workman, who ran unceremoniously towards them, caught hold of Gartram roughly, and cried out, in wild excitement,-- "Come on to the quarry at once." "What's the matter--fall of rock?" cried Gartram. "Blasting--Woodham--blown all to bits," panted the man. "Then he has been using dynamite." "Nay; soon as we picked him up, he said it was the cursed bad powder." "Bah! Where is he?" "We took him home, and I fetched the doctor, and then come on here." "Run home, girls. No, Mr Glyddyr, see them in. I'm going on to my workmen's cottages." He hurried off, and Glyddyr turned to Claude. "I'm sorry there is such terrible news," he began; but Claude did not seem to hear him. "Make haste, Mary," she said hurriedly. "Bring brandy and wine, and join me there." "My dear Miss Gartram, are you going to the scene of the accident?" Claude looked at him in an absent way. "I am going to the Woodhams' cottage," she said hurriedly. "Sarah Woodham was our old servant. Don't stop me, please." She hurried along the narrow road leading west, and it was not until she had gone some hundred yards following the messenger, who was trotting heavily at Gartram's heels, that she realised that she was not alone. "Mr Glyddyr!" she exclaimed. "Pray pardon me," he said, in a low, earnest voice. "As a friend, I cannot let you go alone at a time like this."