"Hocussing the fish!" said the prisoner, in answer to one of Captain Hayward's first intimations of what he thought of his proceedings. "I don't know what you mean by hocussing the fish--I've got a few dead 'uns out of the river, that's all; and no great harm, I should think, just to make a fry." "Ay, my good friend," replied Ned Hayward, "dead enough, I dare say they were when you got them; but I'm afraid we must have a coroner's inquest upon them, and I do not think the verdict will be 'Found drowned.' What I mean, my man, is that you have poisoned them--a cunning trick, but one that I know as well as your name or my own." "And what the devil is your name?" asked the captive, trying to twist himself round, so as at least to get a blow or a kick at his captor. "Be quiet--be quiet!" answered Ned Hayward, half strangling him in his collar. "My name is my own property, and I certainly will not give it to you; but your own you shall have, if you like. You are called Ste Gimlet or I am mistaken, but better known at night by the name of Wolf." The man muttered an angry curse, and Ned Hayward continued, "You see I know all about you; and, to tell you the truth, I was looking for you." "Ah, so he's had some 'un down from London," said Wolf, entirely mistaking the nature of Captain Hayward's rank and avocation. "Well, so help me--, if I ever did this on his ground, afore, Sir." "Well, Master Gimlet," answered Ned Hayward, perfectly understanding what was passing in the man's mind, and willing to encourage the mistake, "I have been asked down certainly, and I suppose I must take you before Sir John Slingsby at once--unless, indeed, you like to make the matter up one way or another." "I haven't got a single crown in the world," answered the poacher; "if you know all, you'd know that I am poor enough." "Ay, but there are more ways than one of making matters up," rejoined Ned Hayward, in a menacing tone. "You know a little bit of business you were about last night." The man's face turned as white as a sheet, and his limbs trembled as if he had been in the cold fit of an ague. All his strength was gone in a moment, and he was as powerless as a baby. "Why," faltered he at length, "you could not be sent for that affair, for there's not been time." "No, certainly," replied the young gentleman; "but having been asked down here on other matters, I have just taken that up, and may go through with it or not, just as it suits me. Now you see, Ste," he continued, endeavouring to assume, as well as he could, somewhat of the Bow-street officer tone, and doing so quite sufficiently to effect his object with a country delinquent, "a nod you know is quite as good as a wink to a blind horse." "Ay, ay, I understand, Sir," answered Mr. Gimlet. "Well then," continued Ned Hayward, "I understand, too; and being quite sure that you are not what we call the principal in this business, but only an accessory, I am willing to give you a chance."