Here were the fields which had been green and then golden with ripe corn.

Here were the White Farm roof and chimneys and windows, and blue smoke from the chimney going straight up like a wraith to meet blue sky.

Before him was the open door.
He had thought of there being only Jenny and the two servant lasses.
But in the time he had been gone there had regathered to White Farm, for learning each from each, for consultation, for mere rest and food, a number of the searchers.

Jarvis Barrow had returned from the northward-stretching moor, Thomas and Willy from the southerly fields.
Men who had begun to drag deep places in the stream were here for some provision.

A handful of women, hooded and wrapped, had come from neighboring farms or from the village.