"H'm!" ejaculated the vicar, as he caught sight of two figures on the hill-side, far distant; but the day was so beautifully clear that he could make out Richard Glaire and a companion. "Mr Glaire and his cousin?" he said hastily. "No, sir," said the young man, quietly, "that's what it ought to be. It's Mr Richard Glaire and one of the town girls. I think it's Daisy Banks. Do you know him well, sir?" "Yes, pretty well," said the vicar, eyeing the young man's saddened face intently. "Well, sir, it's no business of mine," said the young fellow; "but if I was a friend of Mr Richard Glaire, I should tell him to keep at home, and not do that; for the men are getting hot again him, and he may fall into trouble." "John Maine, if any violence is intended against Mr Glaire," said the vicar, "I wish you to tell me at once." "I don't know of any, sir," said Maine, "only Tom Podmore's dreadfully put out about Daisy Banks, and the strike people are growing more bitter every day. If I do hear of anything, sir, I'll tell you." They came directly upon old Bultitude, looking bluff and ruddy in his velveteens and gaiters. "Ah, parson, fine day! how are you? What's the matter?" "Well, Maine here isn't well," said the vicar. "What's wrong, lad? Why, thou said'st nowt when you came in a bit ago." "Oh, it's nothing, sir, nothing," said John Maine, hastily. "Let him go and lie down for an hour," said the vicar, looking at the young man's ghastly face. "Not got fever, hev you, my lad?" said the old gentleman kindly, as they walked up to the house. "Here, Jess, pull down the blinds in the far room, and let John Maine come and lie down a bit theer." At his summons, Jessie's young, pleasant face appeared at the window. It had no more pretensions to beauty than a pair of soft, dark eyes, and a bright, rosy colour, and the eyes looked very wistfully at John Maine, who now made an effort. "No, no, sir," he said. "I won't lie down. I'll get to work again; there's nothing like forgetting pain." "Well, perhaps you're right, Maine," said the vicar. "Well, Mr Bultitude, we don't get over our strike." "Parson, it makes me wild," said the old man. "I can't bear it, and I shall be glad--strange and glad to see it over; for I hate to see a pack of men standing about the town doing o' nowt. Can't you do owt wi' the works people?" The vicar shook his head. "I've tried both ways--hard," he said; "master and men, but no good comes of it." While this conversation was going on, Jessie had stepped anxiously forward, and laid her hand upon John Maine's arm. "Is anything serious the matter, John?" she said anxiously. "Are you very ill?" He started when she touched him as if he had been stung, and withdrew his arm hastily; and then, without so much as a glance at the girl's earnest, appealing eyes, he turned away and followed the vicar down the path, for he had shaken hands and parted from the farmer.