Many of the cottages were of very early date--and many were empty. A
deserted mill stood at one end of the village street, having something
very mournful and depressing about it, with its black, motionless
wings outspread against the blue sky like those of a great bat
transfixed.

There were rich-looking meadows no great way from the village, but
these, I learned, formed part of the property of Farmer Hines, and
Farmer Hines was counted an inhabitant of the next parish. It was,
then, this particular country about Upper Crossleys over which the
cloud hung; and I wondered if the district had been one of
those--growing rare nowadays--which had flourished under the
protection of the "big house" and had decayed with the decay of the
latter. It had been a common enough happening in the old days, and I
felt disposed to adopt this explanation.

My brief survey completed, then, I returned to the Abbey Inn for my
stick and camera, and set out forthwith for Friar's Park.

From certain atmospherical indications which I had observed, I had
anticipated a return of the electrical storm which a few days before
had interrupted the extraordinary heat-wave. And now as I left the
village behind and came out on the dusty highroad a faint breeze
greeted me--and afar off I discerned a black cloud low down upon the
distant hills.




CHAPTER XIII