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Perhaps it is misleading to say that Welcombe is only three miles from Morwenstow; visitors who try to find their way through the rambling narrow lanes will find it much nearer to five or six. But the loveliness of Marsland vale is a recompense, and a charming introduction to the beauties of North Devon.
As far as Helbeck knew, he had spent the rest of the Sunday drinking heavily at Marsland. Since then Laura had received one insolent letter from him, reiterating his own passion for her, attacking Helbeck in the fiercest terms, and prophesying that she would soon be tired of her lover and her bargain.
Her heart beat so, it seemed to her to be a hostile thing hindering her. A panic terror drove her on, but exhaustion and physical weakness caught at her will, and shod her feet with lead. She walked down the platform, however, to the station-master. "The gentleman has gone to inquire at the inn. Will you kindly tell him when he comes back that I have made up my mind after all to walk to Marsland?
And as we know pretty well already what was to be discussed therein, we had better go over to Marsland Mouth, and, if possible, arrive there before Will Cary: seeing that he arrived hot and swearing, half an hour too late. The work was done clumsily rather than cruelly; but wrongs were inflicted, and avenged by fresh wrongs, and those by fresh again. May the memory of them perish forever!
In only one of these "mouths" is a landing for boats, made possible by a long sea-wall of rock, which protects it from the rollers of the Atlantic; and that mouth is Marsland, the abode of the White Witch, Lucy Passmore; whither, as Sir Richard Grenville rightly judged, the Jesuits were gone.
"Where's the Marsland train?" she said to the porter who had come forward to help her. "And how dreadfully late we are!" "Marsland train, Miss! Last one left an hour ago no other till 6.12 to-morrow morning." "What do you mean? Oh! you didn't hear! it's the train for Marsland I want." "Afraid you won't get it then, Miss, till to-morrow. Didn't they warn you at Froswick? They'd ought to.
Why, there's no train beyond Braeside to-night." "No. 4 platform," said Hubert to his companion. "Train just going." Laura threw off her exhaustion and ran. The guard was just putting his whistle to his lips. Hubert lifted her into her carriage. "Good-bye," she said, waving to him, and disappeared at once into a crowd of fellow-passengers. "Right for Marsland?" cried Hubert to the guard.
If she did not arrive by the first train he would get a horse at Marsland and drive on to Braeside. But first he must take care to leave a message for Mrs. Denton, whose venomous face, as she stood listening the night before to his story of Miss Fountain's mishaps, recurred to him disagreeably. The housekeeper would not be stirring yet, perhaps, for an hour.
Before entering it he debated with himself whether he should drive on to the town of Marsland, get horses there and then, and make for Braeside at once. He could get there in about a couple of hours. And then? To search a sleeping town for Miss Fountain would that mend matters?
But old Jackson, our master, thowt a lot of 'em, and so did the passon down at Marsland. An his father an mother well, they thowt he was going to make all their fortunes for 'em. There was a scholarship or soomthin o' that sort an he was to get it an go to college, an make 'em all rich. They were just common wheelwrights, you understand, down on t' Whinthorpe Road. But my word, Mr.
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