IN WHICH WE TAKE LEAVE OF THE MEN OF MAWM WHETHER it was fate or providence that led Maniwel Drake to risk his savings in order to procure for his enemy a few weeks liberty, who shall determine? When men are the sport of circumstances they cry, “Who can control his fate?” When kindly breezes bring them into the haven where they would be they talk smoothly of Providence. Theologians and philosophers have disputed over the terms in all ages; but amidst the clash of argument one truth stands out clearly—that a man inevitably reaps what he sows. Within a month Maniwel had lost his money and Inman his life. “It wor fated to be so,” said old Ambrose; but Jagger regarded it as an act of Providence. Inman came home, to the surprise of his wife, who had not believed that his pride would suffer him to face his neighbours; and in the language that was current “brazzened it out.” His features were impassive, and there was a stern repelling look in his eyes that made men chary of seeking his company. He had no doubt formed his plans from the first, but he masked his intentions with guile and succeeded in disarming suspicion. With the men of Mawm it was in his favour that he paid no lip-service to the Drakes for the kindness they had done him, and avoided all communication with them. His business seemed to occupy all his thoughts; and the arrangements he made for its continuance during the three years his lawyer told him he might expect to be away lacked nothing in completeness. He sat for hours with Nancy and Frank, looking into accounts and discussing possibilities with something like subdued zest; but he never once referred to the subject of his arrest and the circumstances that had led up to it; and Nancy told herself that the silence was portentous. She took the precaution to bolt her bedroom door at night and slept little. Several weeks before his liberty was to end he disappeared in circumstances that made pursuit impossible—that made even his flight doubtful. It was a cold April day, fitfully bright, with frequent showers of sleet. Towards the middle of the afternoon the wind brought up great banks of leaden cloud which discharged themselves in snow. Before nightfall a blizzard was raging with a severity that even Mawm found exceptional, and for eighteen hours there was no cessation of its fury. Huge drifts, in some cases ten feet deep, made the roads impassable, and the farmers’ faces were clouded, for scores of ewes had perished in the storm together with their lambs, and foxes were busy in the poultry houses.