‘You’d best take out,’ he said to the woman. ‘I’m properly starved, I am. What do you think of the new cob? Forty-eight pound! I never knew such prices!’ ‘There’s a chap here says he’s a woman and two children lost up by the sea-crows’ pool,’ she said, disregarding his question. ‘You’d better go and have a word with him.’ ‘Gipsies?’ he said angrily; but without waiting for her reply he stalked stiffly into the room, slapping his dank hands and blinking at the light. He stared at Abner. ‘Hallo!’ he said. ‘I know you. You’m George Malpas’s lodger.’ Abner also recognised his host. It was Mr Williams of Pentre Higgin, the farmer who had chosen himself foreman of the jury at Bastard’s inquest. ‘Well, what’s all this I hear about a woman and two kids?’ said the fanner threateningly. ‘Is that Malpas’s wife?’ Abner told him what had happened. What bewildered him most was to realise that after all they had hit the upper part of their own valley. The Pentre was indeed the farm on which old Drew worked, and less than five miles from Wolfpits itself. The farmer poured himself out a glass of cider and stood smacking his lips while Abner told his story. ‘Well, this is a pretty turn-out!’ he said. ‘I heard some talk of an accident to a little girl over there.’ He went to the door. ‘Hi!’ he shouted, ‘you’d better put to again, missus! Shove the new cob in the stall and give ’en some hay. Mind he don’t bite you.’ He chuckled to himself, being what people in those parts call ‘market-peart,’ then drank off another glass of cider, and motioned to Abner to follow him. ‘We’d best find Badger to give us a hand,’ he said. He tied the reins of the harnessed horse to a post in the yard, and threw a blanket over its back. Abner followed him silently out of the yard and up the road. They stopped in front of a small cottage, and Williams knocked at the door. After some delay Badger in his shirt-sleeves opened it, emitting a queer odour of naphthaline and the dried skins of animals and birds. ‘Put your coat on, Bill,’ said the farmer. ‘Malpas’s wife and kids is up by the sea-crows’ pool. Got lost in the fog.’ In a few moments, as it seemed, they had found the derelicts. By this time Mary protested, she was quite able to walk. Abner again picked up Gladys, Williams carried Morgan, and an easy path brought them down to the farm again. Badger walked beside Abner, but never spoke a word. ‘Now I reckon I’ve got to drive you home,’ said Williams sourly. ‘You’d better jump up quick.’ The lights of the house shone on Mary’s pale face. She did not look at Abner, but the woman of the farm, who appeared to be Williams’s wife, stared at her with hostile eyes. ‘Good-night, Bill!’ the farmer called, as Badger slouched away. ‘Thank’ee, Mr Badger!’ Abner added. But Badger only mumbled something that he could not hear. The sweating horse jogged easily down the lane to Wolfpits. The Nineteenth Chapter