"All Sheepstor will surely go." She brought her food from her pocket and he watched her eat some little sandwiches made of bread and cheese. Their backs were turned to Nosworthy bridge, but they were quite visible from it. "There’s more here than I want," she said. "I wish you’d take some." The whimsical child in the man, even on this dark day, broke loose. "Feed me," he said. "Don’t think I’m a fool for asking; but feed me. I mean it. ’Twill comfort me. I’m cruel miserable, though not to the eye." Of old she remembered his follies and fancies. "When you was young you was always like a little, silly, petted bird or puppy," she said, smiling. "So I often am still--and especially when I’m down on my luck. There’s no dear, silly mother to pet me no more and make me chirrup again. How she would do it! Feed me, Madge." She held a sandwich to his mouth. "One more." "Here’s four more. Eat ’em quick. And then I must get going." One by one she put the morsels of food to his lips, and laughed at him, in spite of herself, while she did so. Then he thanked her and declared that he was much the better and happier for her charity. "Mother’s in heaven," he said. "And I’m going to her again some day. If a man believes that really, and doesn’t only fool himself to think he believes it, ’tis the greatest comfort of all. And I didn’t ought to be miserable to-day, and I’m damned if I will be." "Of course you believe it. So do I--heart and soul--and so do every true, faithful Christian creature." "Of course. Didn’t you say you counted to meet Rhoda here?" "Yes--’tis time she came by." "I shall pass her going back; and I’ll tell her you’re at the bridge waiting for her. Good-bye, Madge; and the Lord bless you for the kind things you’ve said to me." "And thank you, too, Bartley, for--for--" "That was nought." He helped her back from the island to the road; then he left her and went his way in expectation of meeting Rhoda at every turn. But he did not meet her, because she had already passed by. She had flitted swiftly over the bridge; but stricken to passivity by a sudden and astounding sight--she had stood a moment upon the farther side. She had then gone forward without disturbing those who astonished her. Therefore Margaret and Mr. Crocker were wholly unaware that Rhoda Bowden had seen her sister-in-law not only putting food into the man’s mouth, but also laughing at him while he ridiculously imitated the fluttering action of a fledgling bird. Rhoda gasped and slipped her foot once or twice from sheer absorption of mind as she proceeded homeward. She considered this spectacle in the light of news just gleaned at Sheepstor. "And the man’s mother not much more than cold in her grave-clothes!" she thought. *BOOK III* *CHAPTER I* *MYSTERY*