His notice was attracted by a thin blue haze of smoke, behind which

arose sounds of voices and chopping: bending his steps that way, he saw

Winterborne just in front of him. It just now happened that Giles,

after being for a long time apathetic and unemployed, had become one of

the busiest men in the neighborhood. It is often thus; fallen friends,

lost sight of, we expect to find starving; we discover them going on

fairly well. Without any solicitation, or desire for profit on his

part, he had been asked to execute during that winter a very large

order for hurdles and other copse-ware, for which purpose he had been

obliged to buy several acres of brushwood standing. He was now engaged

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in the cutting and manufacture of the same, proceeding with the work

daily like an automaton.

The hazel-tree did not belie its name to-day. The whole of the

copse-wood where the mist had cleared returned purest tints of that

hue, amid which Winterborne himself was in the act of making a hurdle,

the stakes being driven firmly into the ground in a row, over which he

bent and wove the twigs. Beside him was a square, compact pile like

the altar of Cain, formed of hurdles already finished, which bristled

on all sides with the sharp points of their stakes. At a little

distance the men in his employ were assisting him to carry out his

contract. Rows of copse-wood lay on the ground as it had fallen under

the axe; and a shelter had been constructed near at hand, in front of

which burned the fire whose smoke had attracted him. The air was so

dank that the smoke hung heavy, and crept away amid the bushes without

rising from the ground.

After wistfully regarding Winterborne a while, Melbury drew nearer, and

briefly inquired of Giles how he came to be so busily engaged, with an

undertone of slight surprise that Winterborne could seem so thriving

after being deprived of Grace. Melbury was not without emotion at the

meeting; for Grace's affairs had divided them, and ended their intimacy

of old times.

Winterborne explained just as briefly, without raising his eyes from

his occupation of chopping a bough that he held in front of him.

"'Twill be up in April before you get it all cleared," said Melbury.

"Yes, there or thereabouts," said Winterborne, a chop of the billhook

jerking the last word into two pieces.

There was another interval; Melbury still looked on, a chip from

Winterborne's hook occasionally flying against the waistcoat and legs

of his visitor, who took no heed.




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