Dinner-time came, and rest, and then work again, and finally, with a suddenness proper to the time of year, dusk. Sol was just in the act of putting on his coat preparatory to leaving the scene of his labours, when he caught sight, in the far distance, of a wavering light, and presently heard the creaking and rattling of an ancient vehicle which he inwardly decided to be the carrier’s cart returning. It was indeed the only cart of any kind which had passed his way that day. As he picked up his bill-hook and walked slowly to meet it, for his homeward path must perforce take him past it, he could see the outline of the girl’s figure, and observe that it was bent forward; her voice at the same time was uplifted as if in anxiety or distress. “Dear, to be sure! Whatever must I do now? Come up, Di’mond, you’re shammin’. No, he bain’t, poor beast.” Just as Sol was a pace or two away she threw the reins on the horse’s back and leaped to the ground, the animal immediately halting. “What be the matter here?” enquired Sol, as she lifted the lantern from its place and ran round to the other side. “Oh, I don’t know. He mid ha’ picked up a stone or summat, or he mid only be lazy—you never can tell wi’ he. Hold up, Diamond. That’s all right; hold up again.” “There’s a stone,” cried Sol eagerly, “and wedged so tight as anything. ’Tis so big as a happle—I wonder it didn’t throw en.” “Stand!” cried the girl, still in an exasperated tone, as she deposited the lantern on the ground, and hunted about for a larger stone wherewith to dislodge the pebble which was indeed jammed in Diamond’s hind hoof. “Here, let me,” said Sol. “Keep your fingers out o’ the way else I’ll be a-hammerin’ o’ they.” The rays of the lantern, striking upwards, revealed a flashing smile which belied the seeming gruffness of tone and words. The girl straightened herself and stood back:—“Don’t be long about it, that’s all!” said she. “I’m late as it is—and tired just about!” “Why, what be you a-doin’ travellin’ the roads so late?” enquired Sol, as he struck at the recalcitrant pebble. “I do travel the road every day,” returned she. “I do get my livin’ by it. I’m a tranter.” Sol was so much astonished by the announcement that he was obliged to look up, whereupon Diamond immediately jerked away his hoof. “I never did hear of a maid bein’ a tranter afore!” remarked the hedger with a grin. “An’ what ’ud ye say to a old ’ooman of seventy-five bein’ a tranter then?” returned she triumphantly. “My grammer have only just left off a-drivin’ o’ this ’ere cart, an’ now I do do it. E-es, we’ve done all the trantin’ in our place for nigh upon fifty year, I mid say.” “There! well now,” commented Sol, as he recaptured the hoof, and resumed his labours. “E-es, my granfer begun it, an’ then when he died my father kept it on, an’ when he died my grammer took it up, an’ now I do do it. Can’t ye shift that stone?”