“He comes off a black moor, does her husband. Wasn’t it there where t’ bog slid down and sought to drown ’em off t’ face o’ t’ earth, they was that wicked, same as Sodom and Gomorrah? A race o’ cut-throats and kidnappers, I’ve heard my father tell, where t’ men was rakes and t’ sons o’ rakes, and t’ women a set o’ trollops. What was she doing, I wonder, to mate wi’ such-like? But sorrow was written on t’ lass’ face, as I’ve tell’d you many a time.” “Never heed t’ old tales, mother,” Maniwel would say, as he saw the seamed face grow troubled. “There’s good, bad and middling on them moors same as there is on these. You may be thankful ’at he can’t do us no damage, choose how bad he is——!” “Can’t he!” commented Jagger. “No!” continued Maniwel. “I said us. I don’t deny ’at he can put a toathri obstacles i’ t’ way o’ t’ business; but I reckon naught o’ that. When I was a young man I didn’t set much store by flat-racing; but if there was a hurdle race you couldn’t ha’ held me back. They put a bit o’ spice into life, does obstacles; and there’s one thing I will say: there isn’t much chance, o’ sleeping i’ t’ daytime when Inman’s planking down his hurdles i’ t’ road, but I lose no sleep at nights.” CHAPTER XVI IN WHICH INMAN SHOWS THE SUBTLETY OF A VERY VENOMOUS SERPENT DURING these fateful weeks Nancy’s aversion to her husband settled into a milder form of repugnance as she thought she recognised on his part a warmer feeling towards herself. The reason for this increase of amiability she might easily have surmised if she had been acquainted with all the facts, which was far from being the case, for Inman told her just as much as he wished her to know. One might have thought that his affability would have aroused suspicion: that she might have realised that there is no need for the highwayman to waste powder and shot when a smile, which costs nothing, will serve his turn as well. But Nancy was in no mood for analysing motives, and was only too thankful that a protector was at hand to stand between her and the ill-temper which Baldwin expended upon her with a savage coarseness that exceeded anything she had previously experienced. The very sight of her, reminding him as it did of the man who had robbed him, and of her better fortune—for what was a paltry five hundred to one with her means?—goaded him to vulgar reproaches and accusations which Nancy would have found intolerable if it had not been for the knowledge that her husband was only waiting his time. Inman was not always present on these occasions; but when he was he would let his eyes rest on her with a meaning look, and she knew that he was conveying the message he had spoken in private a hundred times. “Have patience, lass! It’ll be your turn after a while! I’m booking it all down!”