And Rhoda upon that homeward walk proposed to speak, to put her discomfort and fear before him, and to trust his affection and wisdom to tide them all over a terrible difficulty. What might have fallen out had she done so cannot be estimated. In the result she never spoke, for there fell an interruption and she was still casting about for the first word, when her brother, Napoleon, rode up on a pony. He had come from Ditsworthy to ’Meavy Cot,’ and his attire marked some haste, for he wore his Sunday coat and waistcoat, but had taken off his trousers and substituted workday garments of corduroy. "Just been to your place," he shouted as he approached them. "Farther was took bad in the night, and he’s a lot worse to-day and reckons he may die of it. And Joshua’s gone for doctor, and mother’s in a proper tantara. And faither wants for you and Rhoda to come up this moment." For an instant they stood, aghast and smitten. "What’s took him?" asked David. "His breathing, and he’s all afire and can’t let down a morsel of food. You’d better get on this pony and go right up along, David." "I suppose I had. Chap from Princetown will have his walk for his pains; but it can’t be helped." Napoleon dismounted and David took his place. "You’ll come on, you two, after me," he said. "Best to go across through Dennycoombe wood. Please God, ’tis of no account. Faither’s so strong and never knoweth ache or pain; therefore what may be a small thing would seem worse to him than it really is." He started and then turned back again. "When you pass Coombeshead, just run in, Nap, and tell Margaret what’s happened. I may be back home to-night, or I may not be. And bid her remember the calves." "I shall be back for that," said Rhoda. "I shall go back to-night in any case." "All right then," concluded David. Then he galloped off and soon disappeared. His sister and the boy tramped without speech together until, glowing like the bright fur of a wolf all grey and russet, Dennycoombe wood rose before them, flung on the distant side of Sheep’s Tor in evening light. "I’ll wait for you by the gate yonder," said Rhoda. "Your nearest way from here be to the left. Don’t you stop talking, mind: you may be useful up at home. Just tell Madge what’s fallen out and then come after me." "I can travel twice so fast as you," answered the boy. "No call for you to wait. I’ll over-get you long afore ’tis dark."