“Hets!” said the woman, “der ye think I canna haud my whist, when the maister bids me? I'm nae great clasher at ony time, for my pairt.” At seven o'clock in the morning he sent a note to Sir Charles Bassett, to say that his house had been attacked last night by two armed burglars; he and his people had captured one, and wished to take him before a magistrate at once, since his house was not a fit place to hold him secure. He concluded Sir Charles would not refuse him the benefit of the law, however obnoxious he might be. Sir Charles's lips curled with contempt at the man who was not ashamed to put such a doubt on paper. However, he wrote back a civil line, to say that of course he was at Mr. Bassett's service, and would be in his justice-room at nine o'clock. Meantime, Mr. Richard Bassett went for the constable and an assistant; but, even to them, he would not say precisely what he wanted them for. His plan was to march an unknown burglar, with his crape on his face, into Sir Charles's study, give his evidence, and then reveal the son to the father. Jessie managed to hold her tongue for an hour or two, and nothing occurred at Highmore or in Huntercombe to interfere with Richard Bassett's barbarous revenge. Meantime, however, something remarkable had occurred at the distance of a mile and a quarter. Mrs. Meyrick breakfasted habitually at eight o'clock. Reginald did not appear. Mrs. Meyrick went to his room, and satisfied herself he had not passed the night there. Then she went to the foreign gent's shed. He was not there. Then she went out, and called loudly to them both. No answer. Then she went into the nearest meadow, to see if they were in sight. The first thing she saw was the foreign gent staggering toward her. “Drunk!” said she, and went to scold him; but, when she got nearer, she saw at once that something very serious had happened. His dark face was bloodless and awful, and he could hardly drag his limbs along; indeed they had failed him a score of times between Highmore and that place. Just as she came up with him he sank once more to the ground, and turned up two despairing eyes toward her. “Oh, daddy! what is it? Where's Reginald? Whatever have they done to you?” “Brandy!” groaned the wounded man. She flew into the house, and returned in a moment with a bottle. She put it to his lips. He revived and told her all, in a few words. “The young bloke and I went to crack a crib. I'm shot with a bullet. Hide me in that loose hay there; leave me the bottle, and let nobody come nigh me. The beak will be after me very soon.” Then Mrs. Meyrick, being a very strong woman, dragged him to the haystack, and covered him with loose hay. “Now,” said she, trembling, “where's my boy?” “He's nabbed.” “Oh!” “And he'll be lagged, unless you can beg him off.” Mary Meyrick uttered a piercing scream.