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John stared at her solemnly and with unwilling admiration.

“Ye be wonderful quick at makin’ out things, and I do suppose it bain’t no use for I to go against ye; but I don’t believe no good ’ull come o’ it. Mrs. Cross be a terrible one to talk—she’ll ha’ spread the tale over village by now.”

“She will,” agreed Martha. “’Tis jist for that I did tell her. I must be gettin’ back now,” she continued, in an altered tone. “Don’t ’ee be took back when ’ee see blinds down, Father.”

“Blinds down! What’s that for?”

“Why, because Private Griggs be killed,” returned Mrs. Frizzell grimly. “They’ll ha’ to be kep’ down till I’ve a-fetched the widow home.”

“The widow!” exclaimed John. And he fairly burst out crying. “My poor little Susie! My poor maidie!”

He turned his back to his wife and stood for a moment with his shoulders convulsively heaving; then, rubbing his eyes with one horny hand, he shouted huskily to the horses, ordered his wife gruffly to stand out of the way, and started off down the hill again.