For in this little village the “Curse” was a real, poignant fact, and was spoken of in the twilight with hushed tones and furtive glances. Children were quieted and terrified by it, and the fear imbibed by them in their childhood grew with them till their death. Not one of them but Mary Slater would have risked its anger by allowing a stranger to sleep beneath her roof; and even Mary, although outwardly calm, was inwardly terrified lest her action might be the means of bringing disaster and misery, not only on her two lodgers, but on the whole little community. Dan Murlock, the husband of the little woman at the corner house, was the first to arrive. He came along at a swinging pace, and waved his cap jauntily as he saw his wife’s trim little figure at the doorway. “Hullo, Moll,” he cried, when he was within speaking distance “an’ how’s yersel’?” “I’m all right,” she replied, while their three year old, curly haired boy and only child peeped from behind his mother’s skirts and cried “Boo” to his dad. The man looked at them both, with awe as well as pride in his glance. Even now he was often heard to remark, that he could not make out why a clumsy brute like him should be allowed to own such an angelic wife and child. “Where’s the strangers?” asked Moll eagerly. “Comin’ along, lass. Why?” “Oh, the ‘Curse,’ Dan!” “Never mind the ‘Curse,’ lass; that’s done with long ago! Is supper ready yet?” “Yes, Dan. It’s ready.” But his wife made no effort to re-enter their little home, and serve the meal her husband wanted. “Woman, what are you staring at?” he cried. “Why do’ant ’ee come in? I’m hungry.” “In a moment, Dan. I—I—” “What’s thee lookin’ at, lass?” “The strangers, Dan. Think the ‘Curse’—” But Dan only laughed good-humouredly. “Thou’rt a fule, lass. Come in and do’ant bother yer head about it,” and he good-naturedly put his arm through hers, and dragged the unwilling woman into the house. Most of the women outside, however, were still waiting, waiting for the strangers. Then suddenly came a buzz of excitement as the news was passed from mouth to mouth. “They’re coming! They’re coming!” The two young men, Alan and Desmond Forsyth, were entirely unconscious of all the attention and interest showered on them. Of the “Curse” they knew nothing, and had they done so, would have cared less. They were cousins, and on very affectionate and intimate terms, and one day would share equally in the Grimland Colliery, of which their uncle was now owner. Alan, moreover, would succeed to his uncle’s title. The future looked very rosy for these two young men. Sir John was determined that when they left Cambridge, they should thoroughly learn the workings of the mine. The instructions he gave Dickson, his manager, were that he was to “make them work like ordinary colliers until they were competent to take charge.”