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Updated: May 9, 2025
"We had better try the fells, Tom," said Kit. The shepherd looked at the threatening sky and fading line of rugged heights. "Aw, yes. It's gan t' be a rough neet, but we'll try 't. We can rest a bit at oad mine-house this side Bleatarn ghyll." Now their route was fixed, Kit mused about something else.
Young John recognised, and yet did not recognise it. He stared up at the wall of the old mine-house from which it had seemed to speak, but he could see no one. Next he thought that the word must have come from his own heart, answering a sudden gush of warmth and happiness that set his whole body glowing. It was as if winter had changed to summer, within him and without, and all in a moment.
For a time, driving them would be easy; but it would be different when they left the water and climbed the rise to Bleatarn ghyll. "How far are we off the mine-house, Tom?" he shouted. "I dinna ken," said the shepherd. "Mayhappen two miles. Ewes is travelling better; t'lambs is leading them." Kit agreed, and they pushed on through the snow.
But, as he headed for the old mine-house of Balmain and the cromlech, or Main-Stone, which stands close beside it and these are the only landmarks he did not even trouble to charge his gun. For the miracle was happening already. It began as perhaps most miracles do very slowly and gently, without his perceiving it; quite trivially, too, and even absurdly.
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