The Black Bird The last meet of the season was, as always, at Folkington Green, close enough to Lewes to draw the townsfolk out on bicycles and in char-a-bancs. The morning was fine after rain, and there was a full attendance on the green under the swinging sign of _The Beehive_. Old Mat sat by the muddy pond on his three-cornered cob. He was dressed, as always, in flat-topped hat, trousers, and elastic-sided boots; and he swung his legs mechanically against Ichabod's hardened sides. About him was gathered the usual group of admiring ladies. They liked Old Mat as much as they disliked his daughter. "I don't come 'ere to 'unt," the old man was saying wearily; "I come 'ere to putest. Yes, you can persecute me if you like, same as you do the fox, but if I live through it, as I 'ave before, I shall go 'ome to Mar, and next time you comes out I shall be there givin' my witness, de we." His face was firm and nobly resolute. "Crool, I calls it," he said. "Such a lot of you, too. Hosses and dogs, men and women, not to say perambylators. All on his back at once; and he'll beat the lot yet, you'll see. That's because he's got religion in him, little red fox has. His conscience is clear, same as mine." He looked about him. "Now there's Mr. Haggard there be the elm. He thinks just the very same as me--only he ain't got the spirit in him to stand up and say so. I'd 'a' wep a tear--only I ain't got one." The Duke in his hunting cap sat close by on his cobby chestnut, which looked as if it had come out of an old hunting print, and the hounds sprawled about it in the sunshine on the green. Silver rode up to the Duke, who greeted him ironically. "Late as usual, Silver," he said. "We've been waiting for you since Christmas." "Very good of you, sir," replied the young man. "I only came down from town this morning." "Glad you could get away," grunted the Duke. "Hope you've done 'em down all right." Silver walked his horse away across the green. The inspector, who had drawn up in the road, got down from his trap, and came toward Silver. "I beg your pardon, sir," he said. "You've nothing against that chap?" He knew very well who Silver was, and was obsequious accordingly. "Nothing," said Silver shortly. "Excuse me, won't you, sir?" continued the inspector. "I wouldn't trouble you only we know him. He's been in trouble before. And we have to watch him. He's a bit funny in the temper. And when he's on the boil there's not a great deal he'll stop at." "I've nothing against him," repeated Silver, and rode on to join Monkey Brand, who was nursing a youngster by the pond. The little jockey greeted him with a drop of one eyelid. "He's watchin' you, sir," he said quietly. "Who is?" asked the young man. "Joses, sir. Through the window of _The Beehive_." "Never mind him," replied Silver, keeping his broad scarlet back turned on the public-house and the face peering at him over the half-blind.