Meanwhile old Maud harped perpetually on her grandson's failure, and on the attempt to disturb her Margaret's marriage. She was for ever lamenting the injustice done to Michael, and calumniating the house of Trevethlan for its treatment of her favourite daughter. Neither topic was agreeable to Sinson; and at length, irritated at home beyond control, he showed himself among the rural habitations. But he went only to meet with fresh mortification. Every one seemed to know his history. People turned their backs upon the traitor. Children mocked and flouted him. Scorn surrounded him on all sides, and in every shape. Daring to present himself at the Trevethlan Arms, he was ejected with violence and derision, and was hooted and pelted from the village green. And among the foremost of his assailants he recognised his ancient rival. There was nothing for it but to endure the petulance of his fanatical grandmother. Woe for the "ministering angel!" One hand in Trevethlan had no share in the insults showered that day upon the traitor. One heart in the village refused to believe in the infamy of him it had loved. One voice was heard in sorrow amidst the general execration. One pair of eyes were clouded with tears, where all others flashed with anger. Mercy Page wept for Michael Sinson. At dusk, the same evening, the village maiden left her mother's cottage, and bent her steps along the quiet lanes to Wilderness Lodge. Now, she thought, was the time to show her devotion, and, if Michael really had gone astray, to call him back to the right path. Now, when all men spoke ill of him, was the time for her to sustain him against their evil report. Hearing of him as prosperous and rising, she had been, comparatively, indifferent. Seeing him abased and insulted, all her early tenderness revived. She rattled the latch of the gate, and Sinson came out of the lodge. He was astonished at perceiving the visitor, who looked at him with her face half bent down. He returned her glance with a sullen stare, and rudely bade her "begone." "Michael," she said, "will you not hear me, Michael? Not hear Mercy?" The soft voice turned the current of the young man's thoughts. "Know you not what they say of me?" he asked. "Saw you not how I was hunted from among them?" "I know it all, Michael; but I believe it not. I saw it, and it made me weep." "Speak not to her," shrieked old Maud, who had come forth to see what her grandson was doing; "speak not to the accursed thing from Trevethlan. Better fortune is in store for my boy. Bid the Armageddon depart." "And will you walk with me, Mercy, as of old?" the young man asked, without heeding Maud's interruption. The maiden answered by placing her hand in Michael's arm, and so, side by side, they quitted Wilderness Gate.