The first inclination of Elias Bassett was to meet his rival, man to man, and settle this outrage by force of arms; but after four-and-twenty-hours with himself he decided against that course. To do the best for Minnie without afterthought for his own gain was now the keeper’s duty. He put himself resolutely out of the question, and even debated whether he should impart his discovery to another, and so stand aloof from the necessary deed; but his nature would not go so far along with him. He was a man faced with a rascal and an enemy, and that rascal must be unmasked by him, not another. The work before him was in itself so congenial that to delay proved difficult. Therefore Elias quickly planned his course of action, and the hour for it. Yet he was disappointed, for on the morning of a day that he had fixed to confront Merle and break the evil news to Minnie, Nicholas himself departed unexpectedly. He was to be absent until the time of the wedding. Upon this circumstance Bassett pondered through another day, then suddenly strange matters hurried his decision and anger opened his lips. Returning by night to the hamlet of Two Bridges over the high Moor, Elias met Minnie Merle alone walking quickly toward the lonely gorges of West Dart, where the river roars and echoes under Wistman’s primeval wood of oaks. Darkness was already come, but a moon hidden under low clouds made all clear. Only the river, full after a freshet, filled the silence with ebb and flow of watery music, that waxed and waned upon the wind. The lonely wood, shunned even by day and held a haunted region by night, huddled there like a concourse of misshapen goblins. Huge planes of shattered granite sank from the hills to the river valley, and the red fox and shining adder alone found a home in this fantastic forest of humped, twisted and shrivelled trees. But to Minnie the desolate spot was good. She associated it with her lover; there, when the sunlight shone and little blue butterflies danced above the briars, Nicholas had asked her to marry him; and now, under gathering night, it was upon a secret errand connected with her cousin that she stole along when the keeper met her, to their common surprise. “A strange hour for a walk, sure enough!” he said. “What wonnerful secret be taking you on the Moor at this time of night?” “It be a secret,” she answered, “so ax me no more about it, an’ go on your way.” “I’ll tell you another secret for yours, Minnie Merle. Wheer be you gwaine so quick?” “To Wistman’s Wood—that much I’ll let you know—no more. Now go your way, Elias, like a gude man.” “Ban’t you feared?” “Not of Wistman’s Wood. ’Tis nought but a cluster of honest old trees.” “Well, I’ll come along with you.” “An’ I won’t let you. Three’s no company.” Elias stared and shifted his walking-stick from one hand to the other. “Gwaine to meet somebody?” “Why not?” “What would your young man say?” Minnie laughed.