The steward took the chair that he was accustomed to occupy, ushered to such position by a wave of the squire's hand, and sharpened his quill pen preparatory to writing. Ande, neither invited to sit down nor stand, remained near at hand. His mother in her fond delight, thinking that he was to be rewarded for his morning heroism, had determined that he should be dressed in a manner suitable for the occasion. He presented a very creditable appearance in his snow-white trowsers, neckerchief, and neat blue jacket. His feelings were not as pleasant as his garments. Since he was evidently going to be rewarded for his services in saving the life of Mistress Alice, he felt exceedingly out of place. He rested his weight on one foot, fidgeted with the other, and fumbled his cap in a nervous manner. He grew restless under the steady eye of the master of Trembath Manor, and his restlessness increased the suspicions in the mind of the latter. "Master Trembath." The lad felt relieved that the silence was at length broken. "Master Trembath, you were nigh the estate of late?" "Yes--s, sir. I frequently go through the Manor woods, sir." "Note that down, Master Blunt." A bewildered look passed over the lad's face. "You were nigh the estate last evening, and will you now tell us what you were doing in that place at that time?" Ande grew more amazed and confused; amazed because he knew not what the squire was trying to ascertain, confused because he had been there and even in the gardens, but for a purpose he did not wish to divulge. A wave of crimson swept over his countenance, rivalling the sanguine hue of his locks. "Take notice of his confusion, Master Blunt," and then in a stern voice to the lad, "You may as well out with it, we know all the facts of the affair." Ande tried to answer, but his tongue clave to the roof of his mouth. His heart seemed to sink lower and lower in his chest. "Sir, sir,--I--I----" "You were in the gardens last evening," thundered the squire, his wrath getting the better of him. "You were in the gardens, were you not? Answer on your honour?" "I was," falteringly. "And for what purpose?" "That I cannot tell." "And why not?" The youth was silent. He had the appearance of a culprit, and felt wretched and miserable. The squire continued to question and cross-question, but of no avail, and at length, growing nettled and peevish, he said, "I will state the case plainly to you, Master Trembath. You were in the gardens last evening, last Wednesday night and last Monday night. On Monday night you drained the fish-pond and stole the best fish; on Wednesday you ruined the shrubbery beds; last evening you took a stone from the hedge and killed my faithful mastiff, Borlase. What answer do you make to these accusations? Make a clean breast of it and it will be better for you, my lad."