"I do believe you," he said, "and I suppose it is hardly likely that information will reach the village in any other way. 'Ill news flies fast,' but the case was too insignificant to be reported in the provincial papers. Anyhow, we must take the risk, and you can deliver your soul of the message when you think fit. I am sorry to have laid this burden upon you." "I accept it willingly," I said, "and am glad that I can be of service to these poor young folk." I had a pleasant evening with the squire and the Cynic, both of whom were at their best in discussing disendowments, in regard to which they held opposite views. The squire showed the possession of a wealth of knowledge which aroused my admiration, and he was so courteous in argument, so magnanimous and altogether gentlemanly, that I could have hugged him for very pride; but I am bound to say that I think the Cynic had the best of it. He is just as generous and courtly as the squire, and he is absolutely sure of his facts and figures; but when he does corner his opponent he does not gloat over him. In my judgment--and I am sure I am impartial, for I like them both so much--he was more convincing than the squire; but then I don't think I ever met a more convincing speaker. Of course I have met very few good speakers, but I doubt if there are many to surpass Mr. Derwent. He took me home about ten o'clock, and I saw that the village had got some new excitement, but the Cynic's presence barred me from participating in it. At the cottage, however, I learned everything, for a gossip had, as usual, hastened to tell Mother Hubbard the news, and she was still discussing it on my arrival, though my invalid ought to have been in bed. Nobody in Windyridge takes a Sunday newspaper, but a visitor from Airlee had left a _News of the World_ at Smiddles's, and after his departure Smiddles had glanced down its columns and found a report of Ginty's trial and sentence. Mrs. Smiddles, bursting with importance, hurried off to impart the information to Sar'-Ann's mother. Sar'-Ann's mother, as might have been anticipated, had expressed her opinion of Ginty's moral character in loud and emphatic language which echoed round the village and awakened a like response. I closed the door wearily on the woman and went to bed, for it was too late to see Sar'-Ann that night. I wish I had made the endeavour now, for with the morning there came news that distressed me terribly. Sar'-Ann's baby had been born at midnight, and poor Sar'-Ann was dead! CHAPTER XXVII MOTHER HUBBARD HEARS THE CALL