He left her then, and passed down from the high ground on which they had walked and talked. Her little boy picked whortleberries and filled a can with them not far off. Woodrow was on foot, and now he sank into the valley. She rose and stood perched on the stone crown of a hill--stood with fluttering skirt and lifting bosom, to drink in the great wind that panted overhead from its strife with the Atlantic. Mist swept here and there, and Hilary Woodrow was presently obliterated by grey vapours that drove against the hills, and broke along them, like waves upon a shore. All that was most precious of this man had already died to Sarah Jane. What remained went ghostly, shadowy as the grey vapour winding at her feet. He had slain himself before her eyes, and she mourned for him, and dumbly wondered at the dreadful change. Was it only the evil-doer who trembled? So did not Dan face his destiny. But Dan's heart and hands were clean. She asked herself what she believed; and she waived the subject as a thing altogether indifferent. Her soul was centred upon her husband and his good. She knew now that she wished Hilary to die. She looked straight and fearless upon her own desire, and did not flinch from it. Death would end his tribulations and bring him peace; and his death must prevent the haunting possibility of the past from ever falling upon her husband's ear. She went home presently, and was heartened on the way by little Gregory's prattle and happiness. His berries were to make a pudding for dear Aunt Tab, and nobody else was to eat of that pudding. Presently Tabitha Prout received the gift with immense gratitude, and promised faithfully that she would make a pudding and eat every bit of it herself. The child grew more and more like his father. He was spoiled by all but Daniel, and his little tyrannies brought merriment to Ruddyford, where life did not stand still. Brendon without question now took command and stood in his master's stead. What he held good to do was done. The old order changed steadily. Further land had been taken from the wilderness; larger flocks and herds roamed the summer Moor; new cattle-byres rose; success attended the homestead, and content dwelt therein. Prout's work was now as much or little as he cared to make it, and when Woodrow abode at Dawlish, the old man spent a good deal of time there and insisted on being his body-servant. Another labourer had been engaged at the farm, and the rest of the men remained, save Joe Tapson. Him Daniel reluctantly dismissed, since rheumatism in the shoulder had spoiled his usefulness. He left in a bitter mood, and though Brendon found him work, showed hate rather than gratitude. Sarah Jane was still dairymaid; Tabitha still controlled the internal economy of the farm.