A padlock fastened the door, but, by wrenching down the covering of
the window, Barron got sight of the interior. A smell of vermin and decay
rose from the inner darkness; then, as his eyes focused the gloom, he noted
a dry, spacious chamber likely enough to answer his purpose. Brown litter
of last year's fern filled one corner, and in it was marked a lair as of
some medium-sized beast; elsewhere a few sacks with spades and picks and a
small pile of potatoes appeared: the roots were all sprouting feebly from
white eyes, as though they knew spring held the world, though neither
sunshine warmed them nor soft earth aided their struggle for life. Here the
man might well keep his canvas and other matters. Assuming that temporary
possession of the shed was possible, his property would certainly be safe
enough there; for artists are respected in and about Newlyn, and their
needs considered when possible. A farm, known as Middle Hemyll, showed gray
chimneys above the fields, half a mile distant, and, after finding the
shed, Barron proceeded thither to learn its ownership. The master of Middle
Hemyll speedily enlightened him, and the visitor learned that not only did
he speak to the possessor of the cow-byre, but that Farmer Ford was a keen
supporter of art, and would be happy to rent his outhouse for a moderate
consideration.
"The land ban't under pasture now, an' the plaace ed'n much used just this
minute, so you'm welcome if you mind to.
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