"And our Mercy's sweetheart among them, dame," said Germoe. "If our Mercy's sweetheart is there," Mrs. Miniver said, "it is to bring them to ruin. And I heard he did come down here a little ago. It's young Sinson, I mean, Master Germoe." "They say his old grandame takes on quite fearful-like," said Breage the general merchant, who now joined the little party under the shade of the old chestnut. "She sits all day, moaning, and rocking herself, and breaks out with something about her daughter, our late squire's lady, and then brings herself up quite short." "Her Michael's plenty on his mind, neighbours," quoth Mrs. Miniver; "you may take your oath of that. I don't wonder old Maud's a bit uneasy. But, hey-day! who comes here?" For a horseman rode rapidly on to the far end of the green, crossed it straight without drawing rein, and proceeded up the ascent of the base-court. "What's in the wind now?" asked farmer Colan. But curiosity tied the tongues of the circle. They watched the stranger while he held a short parley with Jeffrey, and at last dismounted with apparent impatience, and attached his bridle to a ring in the wall. The old porter opened the gate and conducted him within, soon emerging again himself, and seeming to examine the panting quadruped at the porch. Several of the villagers came and joined the group beneath the chestnut. They soon began to discuss this visit in low voices. Whether fear or hope predominated in their explanations, it might not be easy to determine. But the freshness of a sunny April morning might seem likely to inspire the latter feeling, even as it had been evident in Mrs. Miniver's share of the dialogue recorded above. Presently Griffith was seen to come forth from the castle-gate, and after exchanging a few words with Jeffrey, to descend the hill with the stranger, who took his reins upon his arm. The excitement of the villagers increased. As the steward drew near, a similar expression might be read in his own face. He came up and told Mrs. Miniver he wanted the one chaise which she still kept, got ready immediately. A dozen voices demanded the news. "I hardly know what to say, my friends," Griffith answered. "But if the tidings are well founded, they are good news for all who love Trevethlan." "Hurrah," shouted the assembly. It was a work of some little time to prepare Mrs. Miniver's chaise, for the horses which were to draw it, were usually engaged in agricultural pursuits. But it was ready at last, and the steward drove off. The stranger remained to give his animal rest, and was of course assailed with a host of questions. But all he could say was that an attorney at Bodmin had sent him with a letter to Mr. Griffith of Trevethlan Castle, and especially desired him to lose no time on the road. In about an hour he remounted, and rode away in a more leisurely manner than he had arrived.