Horace the Third up from the rug and rubbing his little pug nose.
'Oh, it's no more than a feeling,' said Dwight, as always anxious to be fair. 'I've never attended him. But he has two faces, one, ingratiating, which he turns on to the gentry, another, intimidating, which he turns on those he considers less important than himself.'
'And Valentine and Selina are likely to be absent for some time?'
"They should be back for the Easter holidays.'
II
Clowance and her tall gangling smiling escort left at 12.30. Music rode one of Dwight's older horses, and had difficulty at first in keeping up with Nero who was full of spirit after a night in strange stables. But after Nero had exhausted his first energies Music caught up. Then he remained, respectfully, a horse's length behind, following at a steady pace, adjusting himself to Clowance's. The snow was lying, which was unusual for Cornwall. Often a fall of snow was followed by brilliant sunshine which melted it away. Today there was a thick misty pall of cloud, low lying, steamy, cold. After leaving the wooded area around Killewarren they climbed to the moorland where the bleakness of the day was accentuated by the bleakness of the scene. The few mining cottages crouched more closely among the ruined mine houses and the working mines. Piles of dead stuff stood like hills everywhere. A mule train threaded its way among the excavations and the pits and the rubble. Children, grey-faced and ragged, were still at work stirring the water round and round with their bare feet. Clowance shivered and urged Nero into a trot. Once they were past the worst she slowed again, and when Music slowed she stopped and beckoned him to catch up.
'Have you ever been this way before, Music?'
'Nay, ma'am, I not been gwan this way afore. 'Tes all stra-ange, you.'
Clowance noticed that his voice had deepened from the reedy alto she remembered. He'd filled out too, was not so gangling and stooping as she remembered; and on a horse his peculiar prancing walk did not show.
'I hope you will be able to find your way back.'
Music turned and looked behind him as if to reassure himself. 'Oh, ais. I d'reckon I can always find me way
'ome.'
'Well, I'm quite safe now. It is only a few miles further, down among these woods. The snow is getting worse. You can safely leave me here.'
His face showed doubt, almost dismay, as it always did when confused by new directions. Then it cleared. 'Oh, no, ma'am. Surgeon telled me. I always d'do what Surgeon tell me. I see ee right 'ome to yer door. That's what Surgeon d'say.'
'Do you like working for Dr Enys?'
'Oh, ais, ma'am. He done a lot for me. See ee right
'ome to yer door. That's what he d'say.'
They proceeded downhill. Now they were out of the mining district it was very quiet, the world an empty bowl of silence; there was just the click and creak of harness, the scrape of a hoof on a stone, breath rising like steam from horses and riders, distantly now and then the desolate squawk of a bird. Music still tried to keep a respectful distance behind, but Clowance kept waiting for him and some talk resulted. She could see what Dwight meant. Somewhere at the back of the stupidity there was a reasoning brain. He was reluctantly telling her a little about his work at Place House when he broke off and half checked his horse.
'What be that?'
'What? I didn't hear anything.'
'Hark! Wait now! Hark!'
They both stopped. The sighing wind blew the snow dove-soft against her face.
'Hark!' he said again. 'There!'
She heard it now. It was a wail, a howl, over to their left, a distance over to their left. It was still rough ground here but improving: gorse and hawthorn and bramble, but coppices of elm and mixed wood not far away.
'It sounds like a dog.'
'Ais. Or a caow. Go see, shall I?'
'I'll come with you.'
They broke away from the track they were on and made a diagonal approach to the woods.
'Wait,' she said. 'It's someone's property. This fencing is new. Where would
'Oh, it's no more than a feeling,' said Dwight, as always anxious to be fair. 'I've never attended him. But he has two faces, one, ingratiating, which he turns on to the gentry, another, intimidating, which he turns on those he considers less important than himself.'
'And Valentine and Selina are likely to be absent for some time?'
"They should be back for the Easter holidays.'
II
Clowance and her tall gangling smiling escort left at 12.30. Music rode one of Dwight's older horses, and had difficulty at first in keeping up with Nero who was full of spirit after a night in strange stables. But after Nero had exhausted his first energies Music caught up. Then he remained, respectfully, a horse's length behind, following at a steady pace, adjusting himself to Clowance's. The snow was lying, which was unusual for Cornwall. Often a fall of snow was followed by brilliant sunshine which melted it away. Today there was a thick misty pall of cloud, low lying, steamy, cold. After leaving the wooded area around Killewarren they climbed to the moorland where the bleakness of the day was accentuated by the bleakness of the scene. The few mining cottages crouched more closely among the ruined mine houses and the working mines. Piles of dead stuff stood like hills everywhere. A mule train threaded its way among the excavations and the pits and the rubble. Children, grey-faced and ragged, were still at work stirring the water round and round with their bare feet. Clowance shivered and urged Nero into a trot. Once they were past the worst she slowed again, and when Music slowed she stopped and beckoned him to catch up.
'Have you ever been this way before, Music?'
'Nay, ma'am, I not been gwan this way afore. 'Tes all stra-ange, you.'
Clowance noticed that his voice had deepened from the reedy alto she remembered. He'd filled out too, was not so gangling and stooping as she remembered; and on a horse his peculiar prancing walk did not show.
'I hope you will be able to find your way back.'
Music turned and looked behind him as if to reassure himself. 'Oh, ais. I d'reckon I can always find me way
'ome.'
'Well, I'm quite safe now. It is only a few miles further, down among these woods. The snow is getting worse. You can safely leave me here.'
His face showed doubt, almost dismay, as it always did when confused by new directions. Then it cleared. 'Oh, no, ma'am. Surgeon telled me. I always d'do what Surgeon tell me. I see ee right 'ome to yer door. That's what Surgeon d'say.'
'Do you like working for Dr Enys?'
'Oh, ais, ma'am. He done a lot for me. See ee right
'ome to yer door. That's what he d'say.'
They proceeded downhill. Now they were out of the mining district it was very quiet, the world an empty bowl of silence; there was just the click and creak of harness, the scrape of a hoof on a stone, breath rising like steam from horses and riders, distantly now and then the desolate squawk of a bird. Music still tried to keep a respectful distance behind, but Clowance kept waiting for him and some talk resulted. She could see what Dwight meant. Somewhere at the back of the stupidity there was a reasoning brain. He was reluctantly telling her a little about his work at Place House when he broke off and half checked his horse.
'What be that?'
'What? I didn't hear anything.'
'Hark! Wait now! Hark!'
They both stopped. The sighing wind blew the snow dove-soft against her face.
'Hark!' he said again. 'There!'
She heard it now. It was a wail, a howl, over to their left, a distance over to their left. It was still rough ground here but improving: gorse and hawthorn and bramble, but coppices of elm and mixed wood not far away.
'It sounds like a dog.'
'Ais. Or a caow. Go see, shall I?'
'I'll come with you.'
They broke away from the track they were on and made a diagonal approach to the woods.
'Wait,' she said. 'It's someone's property. This fencing is new. Where would
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