She determined to see him and walk with him, as he asked, if he returned
with clean hands. While the letter which she had read neither proved nor
disproved such a supposition, the woman yet felt a secret and sure
conviction in her heart that Noy was coming back innocent at least of any
desperate action. That he was in Cornwall again and a free man appeared to
her proof sufficient that he had not committed violence.
Mary allowed her anxiety to interfere with no duty. By three o'clock she
was ready to set out, and, looking from her bedroom window as she tied on
her hat, she saw Joe Noy approaching up the hill. A minute later she was at
the door, and stood there waiting with her eyes upon him as he came up the
path. Then she looked down, and to the man it seemed as though she was
gazing at his right hand which held a stick.
"'Tis as it was, Mary Chirgwin--my hands be white," he said. "You needn't
fear, though I promised if you ever seed 'em agin as they'd be red. 'Tedn'
so. I was robbed of my hope, Mary. The Lard took Joan fust; then he took my
revenge from me. His will be done. The man died four-an'-twenty hours 'fore
I found en--just four-an'-twenty lil hours--that was all."
"Thank the Almighty God for it, Joe, as I shall till the day of my death.
Never was no prayer answered so surely as mine for you."
"Why, maybe I'll graw to thank God tu when 'tis farther to look back 'pon.
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