"He deserves it," replied the young man doggedly. "If it had only been the shed now!--but--" "Four Pound," she said. "I know." Her little hand came reaching toward him in the dusk. "Give me that knife, please." He fenced with her. "Don't you believe in punishment?" he asked. "I don't know." "Not even for cruelty?" "I don't think you can stop cruelty by being cruel yourself." "Wouldn't you give him in charge?" "Yes," she said, "if I was sure they'd kill him. But they wouldn't. They'd only cage him. And I can't believe in the cage for anyone." She was breathing deeply. "Here you are," said the young man. She laid her hand on his a moment. He grasped it, and drew toward her silently. The horses moved side by side down the hill, a few pale stars sprinkling the dull heavens, and somewhere behind, the glimmer of a young moon. They passed into the Paddock Close, stealing softly over the turf, the wood moving gently on their right in the darkness. He came looming up beside her. "Boy," he said deeply. It was the first time he had dared. "Yes," she answered, and her voice trembled ever so little. "Will you share something besides Four-Pound-the-Second?" "What?" "Everything." The moon caught her. She turned full face to him; and her eyes were tender and brilliant as he had never known them. "D'you care for me?" she asked. "I love you," said Silver. She squeezed his hand, but answered nothing. "D'you care for _me_?" he asked in his turn. She did not answer for some time. "I'm not going to marry you," she said at last. "Why not?" He thought she gulped. "I'm not going to marry a gentleman." "Why not?" Again she paused. "It doesn't do." He lifted her little hand in his great gloved one and kissed it. "Bless you, dear Boy," was all he said. CHAPTER XXVIII The Fat Man Goes Under It was two days later that the girl met Joses in the village street. She crossed to him swiftly, and she was white and sparkling. "Here's your knife, Mr. Joses," she said, handing it him. There came into his eyes at once that hunted look. He put both hands behind him and bowed with his honeyed smile. "It's not mine, Miss Woodburn, thank you," he said. The girl was growing apace. A few months back she would have said "It is," and have dropped it at his feet. Now she answered: "You may have it whenever you like to call for it," and passed on. A little farther down the street she met the vicar. On her face was that frosty look that Mr. Haggard said made him afraid. "Well, Boy?" he said. "Good morning, Mr. Haggard," she answered, but she did not stop. That evening she called at the cottage where Joses lodged and handed Mrs. Boam the knife done up in brown paper. "Will you give this to Mr. Joses?" she said. The woman's apron was to her lips, and over it her frightened eyes peered at the girl. "He's gone, Miss," she said. The girl was surprised. "Gone?" she said. "Where?" The woman nibbled her apron.