"It's always sad to see a thing fall down--whether it's a god or a tree. The sound of the woodman's axe be sad to some minds." "It is to me," said Dinah. He looked up at the features above them, carved on the mass of the tor. Beyond swung out Rippon's granite crown against the sky, and nearer stretched miles of wild and ragged heath. Then, in long, stone-broken curves the moor rose and fell across the western light to Honeybag and Chinkwell and huge Hameldown bathed in faint gold. The sun kneaded earth with its waning lustres until matter seemed imponderable and the wild land rolled in planes of immaterial radiance folding upon each other. The great passages of the hills and dales melted together under this ambient illumination and the stony foreground shone clear, where, through the hazes, a pool glinted among the lengthening shadows and reflected the sky. Quartz crystals glittered where the falling rays touched the rocks, and as the sun descended, great tracts of misty purple spread in the hollows and flung smooth carpets for the feet of night. For a moment "Bloody" seemed to relax his brutal features in the glow. Sunset lit a smile upon the crag, and nature's monstrous sculpture appeared to close its eyes and bask in the fading warmth. "It would be a pity if ever Hey Tor were thrown down, as I wanted to throw it, when I was that little angry boy," said Lawrence. She put out her hand to him. "Don't you fling over God," she said very earnestly. "I hope never," he answered. After they had talked awhile longer he looked at his watch. "Half after seven," he exclaimed. They set off for home and she asked for another tale. "Tell me what happened to you when you went out into the world," she begged; but this he would not do. He made no mystery, but definitely declined. "You've heard enough about me, I reckon. Speak of yourself a bit." She obeyed and described her life in childhood, while he listened to the simple story, interested enough. He reminded her of his desire as their walk ended and they reached the door of Falcon Farm. "Don't say nothing of my past in this, or tell the tale of the rock again, Dinah. I'm not wishful for the people to know anything about me." She promised. "I can keep secrets," she assured him. CHAPTER XV BEN BAMSEY'S DOUBTS As the summer advanced, Jane Bamsey let it be known that she proposed to wed Enoch Withycombe's son, Jerry. For some time her parents refused to believe it, but as Jane persisted and brought Jerry to see them, they began to accept the fact. Benjamin felt hopeful of the match, while Jane's mother did not. In the first place she was disappointed, for while a fine and amiable man, of good repute, not lacking in respect, Jerry could not be considered a very promising husband. He was too old; he was only a woodman and would always remain a woodman. Mrs. Bamsey held that a daughter of hers should have looked higher.