The mode of travel he suggested was common enough in those days, but such a proposal from Tim’s father frightened Sarah not a little. Her first thought was for herself, her second for her sweetheart, and she nerved herself to refuse the farmer’s offer. “I’m sure you’m very kind, sir, but—” “No ‘buts.’ Here’s a stone will make a splendid upping stock, an’ `Sharky’ can carry the pair of us without knowing his load be increased. Up you get! Theer’s plenty of room for my fardels in front o’ the pommel. Us won’t bate our pace for you, I promise. Now jump! Whoa, bwoy! Theer we are. Just put your arms around my flannel waistcoat an’ doan’t be shy. ’Tis well I met ’e, come to think on’t, for I wanted a matter o’ few words.” Soon they jogged forward, the big horse taking little account of Sarah’s extra weight. At length they crossed Riddon Ridge and passed Dart at a ford, where Sarah had to hold up her toes out of the reach of the river. Then, as they rode along the foothills of Bellever, the farmer spoke suddenly. “My life’s been wisht of late days along wi’ taking thought for my son Tim. You’ve heard tell of un? You see, ’tis my wish to have un mated wi’ his cousin. But I’m led to onderstand as theer’s a maiden up-long he thinks he likes better; an’ her name’s same as yours, Sarah Belworthy.” “Oh, Maister Chave, I do love un very dear, I do.” “So you done to that yellow man, Jan Aggett.” “’Tweern’t the same. When Maister Timothy comed, I seed differ’nt.” “Doan’t shake an’ tremble. You’ll never have no reason to fear me. Tell me how ’twas. Jan gived ’e up—eh?” “Ess, he did.” “Why for?” “For love of me.” “Ah! Now that was a brave fashion deed. I allus thought a lot of the man, an’ I’m sorry you’ve sent un to the Devil, wheer they tell me he’s bound of late days.” “He’m a gude man, an’ I wish to God as something could be done to bring him back in the right road.” “Ess fay! An’ you’m the one as would have to look the shortest distance to find a way to do it, Sarah. A gude example that man, for all his foolishness since. Loved ’e well enough to leave ’e—for your own gude, he did—eh?” “God bless him for doin’ it.” “Why doan’t ’e go back to him?” “I cannot, I cannot now.” “Well, man’s love be greater than woman’s by the look of it. What girl would have done same as that man done? What girl would give up a man for love of him, an’ even leave un for his gude? Not one as ever I heard tell of.” “Many an’ many would for that matter. What’s a sacrifice if your love be big enough?” “Be yours? That’s the question I’d ax ’e.” Sarah’s heart sank low; Mr. Chave felt her shiver and the hands clasped over his thick waistcoat tremble. Looking down, he saw her fingers peeping out of woollen mittens; and upon one, sacred to the ring, a small gold hoop appeared with a coral bead set therein. Sarah did not answer the last pointed question, and Farmer Chave continued:—