He seemed to be able to adapt the instrument to every mood
or tone. The boy's voice was rough and untrained, but it held a certain
appeal and by sheer intuition--comradeship as it seemed--Green brought it
home to the hearers. The man's unfailing responsiveness was a revelation
to her. She believed it was the secret of his charm.
When the song was ended, a fisherman came forward and danced a hornpipe
on the table, again to the thrumming of the banjo, without which nothing
seemed complete. It was while this was in progress that a thick-set,
somewhat bulletheaded man came up and addressed the squire by name.
"We don't often see you here, Mr. Fielding."
The squire turned. "Hullo, Ashcott. Your lambs are in force to-night. How
are they behaving themselves?"
"Pretty fair," said Ashcott. "They're getting the strike rot like the
rest of the world. We shan't hold 'em for ever. If any of the Farringmore
lot turned up here, I wouldn't answer for 'em. Lord Wilchester talked of
motoring down the other day, bringing friends if you please to see the
mine, I warned him off--the damn' fool! Simply asking for trouble, as I
told him. 'Well, what's the matter?' he said.
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