"D'you know what's going to happen?" she asked. "I mustn't tell Daniel, but I must tell somebody or 'twill kill me. Mr. Woodrow--he thinks the wide world of dear Daniel. He puts him first--first afore all in his mind." Mr. Prout groaned, and she extended her hand to him. "I do wish you'd take my arm, John. This be too heavy work for your weak legs." He took it. He longed to speak and pray her for her own sake, and for his master's sake, to keep Brendon to his resolution. His master was the uppermost thought. "Mr. Woodrow's going to write a will," said Sarah Jane. "I prayed him not; I prayed him not to think of death, or any such thing. His be a very beautiful, generous life, John." "Oh, woman, why was you let come into it?" "I love him, John." "Don't--don't, for Christ's sake, tell these things. I can't bear 'em." "I love him--because he loves me, but more because he loves Dan so much. He mustn't die--he----" "Leave it--shut your mouth, or I won't say what I'll answer. God's over all--let me cling to that. I'd cut my heart out for him--but--there, never you speak to me about him again--never--never. I wish I had died afore to-night." "Don't take on. I'll pay if---- You won't tell Dan I was with him. 'Twould spoil all--Dan being what he is. And you won't say a word of this great news. He's to speak to Daniel himself. What joy for Daniel! How he'll bless his God--eh, John?" Prout dragged himself helplessly and silently beside her. Then a wonderful spectacle appeared above them in the firmament. From the depth of the northern heavens there sprang an immense halo of colourless light, where the moon shone upon unnumbered particles of flying rain. Wan, yet luminous, flung with one perfect sweep upon the storm, it endured--the only peaceful thing in that wild world of tumultuous cloud and clamouring wind. The arch of the lunar rainbow threw its solemn and radiant span across the whole earth from west to east. It framed all Dartmoor, and one shining foot seemed to sink upon the Severn Sea, while the other marked the places of the dawn. They stood and stared a moment; then both were nearly blown off their legs and driven forward by the sudden buffet of the gale. "Heaven be over all, like that beautiful silvery bow above our heads," she cried loud in his ear. "There's no rainbow for me," he answered. "And there didn't ought to be for you, woman." "How do I know? I only know my heart be merry when I think on Daniel. Who can do wrong that brings joyfulness to good people?" He groaned again and she misunderstood. "Don't take on so and be sad for master. There's happiness even for him in the world still--here and there; and happiness is God's gift, I suppose. None else can give it to a man--so my Dan says. Them as bring it be the messengers--only the messengers. All the same, I hate only Heaven to be thanked when a man or woman does a brave, lovely thing."