"It has been told to me this morning that you and your people accuse us of having assaulted you," he began, without prelude. "Master, I have walked back ten miles to set it right." "I have not accused you," said Mr. Chandos. "The assault upon me—if it can be called such—proceeded from a woman; but I have no more cause to suspect that it was one of your women, than I have to suspect any other woman in the wide world." "'Twas none of ours, master. We was 'camped upon your common, and you let us stop there unmolested; some lords of the soil drive us off ere we can pitch our tent, hunt us away as they'd hunt a hare. You didn't; you spoke kind to us, more than once in passing; you spoke kind to our little children; and we'd have protected you with our own lives, any of us, had need been. Do you believe me, master?" The man's voice was earnest, and he raised his honest eyes, fierce though they were, to Mr. Chandos, waiting for the question to be answered. "I do believe you." "That's well, then, and what I came back hoping to hear. But now, master, I'll tell ye what I saw myself that same night. I was coming up toward this way, and you overtook me, riding fast. May be you noticed me, for I touched my hat." "I remember it," said Mr. Chandos. "You rode in at the gates at a hand gallop; I could hear the horse's hoofs in the silence of the evening. I met one of our fellows, and stopped to speak to him, which hindered me three—or four minutes; and—you know them trees to the left of the gate, master, with posts afore 'em?" "Well?" said Mr. Chandos. "There stood a woman there when I got up. She was taking off a grey cloak, and she folded it small and put it on her arm and walked away. Folks put on clothes at night, instead of taking 'em off, was in my thoughts, and I looked after her." "Did you know her?" "I never saw her afore. She was one in your condition of life, master, for her clothes were brave, and the rings glittered on her fingers. Next morning when we heard what had happened, we said she was the one. I have not seen her since. She seemed to be making for the railroad." "Why did you not come and tell me this at the time?" "Nay, master, was it any business of mine? How did I know I should be welcome? or that our people was suspected? That's all, sir." "Will you take some refreshment?" said Mr. Chandos. "You are welcome to it." "Master, I don't need any." The man, with a rude salute to me, turned and departed, and we saw him treading the gravel walk with a fearless step. Mr. Chandos turned to me with a smile. "What do you think of all this?" "I am sure that the gipsies are innocent." "I have been tolerably sure of that from the first, for I knew that their interest did not lie in making an enemy of me; rather the contrary; what puzzles me, is Lizzy Dene's manner. But let us return to the matter we were interrupted in, Miss Hereford. Go on with what you were about to say."