"So you're bringing Phoebe over to Cry the Neck, Sam?" he asked
casually. Sam Lenine nodded.

"Gwain be there, Passon?"

"Maybe. Fact is, Sam, I thought it would be a good opportunity to sit
that boy at the head of the table--"

Lenine nodded again, but waited in silence.

"You're an influential man," continued Boase, "and the way you speak of
him and treat things generally would rather give the lead to the people
round here."

For the third time the miller nodded, then started a little as he caught
sight of Ishmael and Phoebe reappearing from the pig-stye, and his
eyes lightened suddenly. He dropped his thickly-veined lids to hide
them.

"Happen I can do a little, Passon," he said; "I'll think on et."

"Do," said Boase heartily. Then he too started slightly and looked at
the miller a little suspiciously, and, though he said nothing, his face
darkened. Already the cords of intrigue were beginning to close round
Ishmael Ruan, and the Parson longed to break them with one clean stroke,
even while he realised the futility of the wish. He called rather
sharply to the children.

"Ishmael! You must come back with me now; there are things I want you to