"A good horse seemingly. Have 'e asked my master, Mr. Woodrow? He's only waiting to be tempted, I believe." "A good horse, as you say; but he won't carry beer," explained Jarratt Weekes. "Not that I ever want him to do so; but he's always nervous of the dark. Old farmer Routleigh used to have him; then, coming home market-merry from Okehampton, he got into trouble and was left in the hedge. I like the horse very well, but he's barely up to my weight. He'd suit Woodrow exactly, I should judge." "I'll mention the matter to him." "Thank you, Brendon. Brendon was it you said, or Brandon?" "Brendon's my name." "Lucky I met you, then, for I've wanted to have a say with you for some time." Daniel did not answer. "Look here, now--between men there need be no beating about the bush. That's women's way. And a woman I want to talk about. In Lydford they are mentioning the name of a Daniel Brendon with that of Miss Friend, who lives up here for the present at Dunnagoat Cottage with her father." The other's face hardened, and a heavy look came into his eyes; but he did not speak. "That's not as it should be," continued Jarratt Weekes. "It gets about, and then there's wrong ideas in the air. Living up here, the girl can't hear it or contradict it. But 'tis a very unmaidenly thing for her to be talked over like that, and, frankly, I don't much like it, Brendon." Still Daniel preserved silence. His heart was beating hard; he felt anger running in his veins and his jaws fastening on each other. But he made no answer. Instead he stopped, slowly drew his pipe and a tobacco-pouch from his pocket, and prepared to smoke. "Buckets more rain be coming," he said presently, looking at the sky. "Don't change the subject, please. Answer my question." "I don't know you'd asked one." "You're wasting time to pretend ignorance. Say what you've got to say. I've a perfect reason and right to speak to you on this delicate matter, and everybody well knows it--but yourself apparently. Now speak." "You had better finish telling first," answered Daniel. "To me you appear to be on a wild goose chase altogether, and talking no better than silly rummage. Why are you so busy about Sarah Jane Friend? Tell me that, and then 'twill be time for me to talk to you. Let's have your reason and right you mention, if you please, Mr. Weekes." "My reason and right is that I am going to marry her myself. We are engaged. Everybody knows that very well. And nobody better than Sarah Jane Friend. It happens that I've been exceedingly busy lately--too busy to be quite so lover-like as I ought. So she's been amusing herself by drawing you on. But 'tis beyond a joke now, and I'll have no more of it, or I'll speak to your master."