" But Mrs. Bolitho herself had had a
very recent example in her own family of "possession." There had
been her old grandfather, living in the farm with them, as hale and
hearty a human of sixty-five years as you'd be likely to find in a
day's march through Glebeshire. "He lost touch with them," as Mrs.
Bolitho put it. In a night his colour failed him, his cheerful
conversation left him, he could "do nought but sit and stare out o'
window." A month later he died.
Martin had not been long at Borhedden before she came to her
conclusions about him, told them to her James, and found that his
slow but sure brains had come to the same decision. In the sense of
the tragedy overhanging the poor young man she forgot to consider
the possible impropriety of his relations with Maggie. He was
removed at once from human laws and human judgment. He became "a
creature of God" and was surrounded with something of the care and
reverence with which the principal "softie" in the village was
regarded.
It was not that Martin's behaviour was in any way odd. After a few
days in the utter peace and quiet of the moor and farm he screamed
no more at night.
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