"No," replied Grace. "Not that Putt's opinion is of much moment save in matters of salmon." "He is courting a maiden at Chagford; and her brother--a man called Mason--is an outdoor servant to Mr. Norcot. And last Sunday, when the women were at church, Putt had speech with this man, and they got merry over drink. Tom praised Mr. Norcot mightily, and his servant said with great admiration that he believed as like as not, Mr. Peter had killed his uncle to get head of the Wool Factory. Mason said he couldn't pay Mr. Norcot a higher compliment for skill and cleverness; but Tom Putt was rather afeared about it, and he's in doubt now whether to go on courting that man's sister." "There was a mystery," declared Grace. "Peter Norcot last saw his uncle alive on the Moor. Oh, John--to think of it! He is cruel, for he sets man-traps and spring-guns in his woods. A man who would do that would--he may be even a murderer! Under all his rhymes and nonsense he surely has a tiger's heart!" "You mustn't think of it--either that he could do so wicked a deed, or that you are going to marry him. Most gentlefolks put man-traps in their preserves nowadays. But, to be honest, he don't, for I heard him tell master he didn't last time he was here. And as for you, the right man must soon come. He----" "Stop there, John! 'Tis like your kind self to talk so to me; yet I know very well how it hurts you." "Sweet!" he cried. "I have told you how I love you. I couldn't choke it down longer. And you forgave me, and pitied me a little. You must let me hope and pray for the right man, since 'tis impossible I can ever be anything to you." Grace was silent, and he continued. "I've learned better since that moment. I'm not a fool. My love at least is too big a pattern to offer it to you again." "Can a man love a maid too much then?" she exclaimed. "He may love too little and so offer himself. I love--there, my love's all of me. But who am I to dare to lift eyes to you?" "'Tis just that, John," she said with a fluttering heart. "Who are you?" "Until 'tis known----" "What difference can that make? Can a fact not known alter a fact known? Mr. Norcot taught me that much. Facts never contradict themselves, he said once; and the fact is--you love me. If a king was your father, you still love me; and you are you--honest and true, and generous. And--and you've got a dear face like my dead brother's." He stared in front of him, and Grace mused over his virtues. Suddenly he spoke. "You'll make me mad again!" he cried. "I ought to spur away for dear life, and for honour and right; I ought to turn my back and gallop to the ends of the world; but I can't--I can't do it--more shame to me." "You certainly love me with all your heart, John. Well, John dear, I think I love you too!" "No, no," he said. "You must not; it can't be; 'tisn't in sober reason."