Too preoccupied to be as excited over such a letter as he would ordinarily have been, Gregory tucked it away in his jacket pocket and went to saddle up Daisy.
Before lunch, he stole a kiss from Nancy, and planted another on her overheated left cheek as she stood by the vast range in the kitchen. Apart from that, there was little pleasure in the day. Grendon was reassured to find that none of the other piglets had fallen ill of the strange shrinking disease, but he remained alert against the possibility of it striking again.
Meanwhile, another miracle had occurred. In the lower pasture, in a tumbledown shed, he had a cow that had given birth to four calves during the night. He did not expect the animal to live, but the calves were well enough, and being fed from a bottle by Nancy.
The farmer’s face was dull, for he had been up all night with the laboring cow, and he sat down thankfully at the head of the table as the roast pig arrived on its platter.
It proved uneatable. In no time, they were all flinging down their implements in disgust. The flesh had a bitter taste for which Neckland was the first to account.
“It’s diseased!” he growled. “This here animal had the disease all the time. We didn’t ought to eat this here meat or we may all be dead ourselves inside of a week.”
They were forced to make a snack on cold salted beef and cheese and pickled onions, none of which Mrs. Grendon could face in her condition. She retreated upstairs in tears at the thought of the failure of her carefully prepared dish, and Nancy ran after her to comfort her.
After the dismal meal, Gregory spoke to Grendon.
“I have decided I must go to Norwich tomorrow for a few days, Mr. Grendon,” he said. “You are in trouble here, I believe.
Is there anything, any business I can transact for you in the city? Can I find you a veterinary surgeon there?”
Grendon clapped his shoulder. “I know you mean well, and I thank ‘ee for it, but you don’t seem to realize that vetinaries cost a load of money and aren’t always too helpful when they do come.”
“Then let me do something for you, Joseph, in return for all your kindness to me. Let me bring a vet back from Norwich at my own expense, just to have a look round, nothing more.”
“Blow me if you aren’t stubborn as they come. I’m telling you, same as my dad used to say, if I finds any person on my land -I didn’t ask here. I’m getting that there shotgun of mine down and I’m peppering him with buckshot, same as I did with them two old tramps last year. Fair enough?”
“I suppose so.”
“Then I must go and see to the cow. And stop worrying about what you don’t understand.”
The visit to Norwich (an uncle had a house in that city) took up the better part of Gregory’s next week. Consequently, apprehension stirred in him when he again approached the Grendon farm along the rough road from Cottersall. He was surprised to see how the countryside had altered since he was last this way. New foliage gleamed everywhere, and even the heath looked a happier place. But as he came up to the farm, he saw how overgrown it was. Great ragged elder and towering cow parsley had shol up, so that at first they hid all the buildings. He fancied the farm had been spirited away until, spurring Daisy on, he saw the black mill emerge from behind a clump of nearby growth. The South Meadows were deep in rank grass. Even the elms seemed much shaggier than before and loomed threateningly over the house.
As he clattered over the flat wooden bridge and through the open gate into the yard, Gregory noted huge hairy nettles craning out of the adjoining ditches. Birds fluttered everywhere. Yet the impression he received was one of death rather than of life. A great quiet lay over the place, as if it were under a curse that eliminated noise and hope.