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"Billy's very jealous for me, same as Elijah was for the Lard o' Hosts," said Mr. Lyddon. Then Martin and Clement climbed the steep hill that lay between them and Chagford, while the miller and his man pursued their way through the valley. Despite the miller's explicit declaration, there was yet a doubt as to what he might do in the matter of Will Blanchard.

In this mood, with his wrongs sharpened by return to Chagford and his purposes red-hot, John Grimbal now ran against his dearest foe, received the horsewhip from him, and listened to his offer of peace. He still kept silence and Will lowered the half-lifted arm and spoke again. "As you please. I can bide very easy without your gude word."

Then he strolled away into the village, to see the well-remembered names above the little shop windows; to note curiously how Chagford market-place had shrunk and the houses dwindled since last he saw them; to call with hearty voice and rough greeting at this habitation and that; to introduce himself again among men and women who had known him of yore, and who, for the most part, quite failed to recognise in their bluff and burly visitor the lad who set forth from his father's cottage by the church so many years before.

When first he heard of the event that set Chagford tongues wagging so briskly, he rightly judged that John would hold him one of the conspirators; and an engagement to Chris Blanchard must certainly confirm the baffled lover's suspicions and part the men for ever. But before those words, as they passed through his brain, Martin Grimbal stopped, as the peasant before a shrine.

"SIR, It has come to my knowledge that the man, William Blanchard, who enlisted in the Royal Artillery under the name of Tom Newcombe and deserted from his battery when it was stationed at Shorncliffe some ten years ago, now resides at this place on the farm of Monks Barton, Chagford.

"You know as well as I can tell you. There's one other thing. About Chagford, Chris? Are you afraid of it? I'll turn my back on it if you like. I'll take you to Okehampton now if you would rather go there." "Never! 'Tis for you to care, not me. So you knaw an' forgive what's the rest? Shadows. But let me hold your hand an' keep my tongue still. I'm sick an' fainty wi' this gert turn o' the wheel.

"You 'm well pleased to come back to dear li'l Chagford after so many years of foreign paarts, I should think, Mr. Grimbal?" said Phoebe. "Ay, that I am. There's no place like Devon, in all the earth, and no spot like Chagford in Devon.

Then, when the invalid became sufficiently restored to leave Chagford for change of air, both Martin and Chris accompanied her and spent a few weeks by the sea. Will, meantime, revolved upon his own affairs and suffered torments long drawn out.

He cleared his throat and began: "'Sale this day to Newtake Farm, near Chagford, Dartmoor, Devonshire. Mr. William Blanchard, being about to leave England for foreign parts, desires to sell at auction his farm property, household goods, cloam, and effects, etc., etc., as per items below, to the best bidder. Many things so good as new. How do 'e like that, Phoebe?"

For numerous gratuitous loans of parish money, see the Mere Acc'ts, Wilts Arch. and Nat. Hist. Mag., xxxv , passim. See Wilts Arch. Mag., xxxv. Cf. J.E. Foster, St. In 1564 the parishioners of Chagford, Devon, bought from the lord of the manor for £10 the local markets and fairs, subject to a yearly rent of 16s., which they had always paid as tenants.