“Ah, I suppose I shall never hear the last of that most vulgar pleasantry. But I tell you they canʼt see it, or else it is they wonʼt. They are determined to do it all over again, and they need only change four letters, and the fixings all come in again. For the R they should put an L, for the D a Y——Bless my soul, Mr. Garnet, what is it you see there”? No wonder Rufus Hutton asked what Mr. Garnet saw, for the stewardʼs eyes were fixed intently, wrathfully, ferociously, upon something not very far from the place where his home lay among the trees. His forehead rolled in three heavy furrows, deep and red at the bottom, his teeth were set hard, and the muscles of his shoulders swelled as he clenched his hands fast. Dr. Hutton, gazing in the same direction, could see only trees and heather. “What is it you see there, Mr. Garnet”? Rufus Hutton by this time was quivering with curiosity. “Iʼd advise you, sir, not to ask me”: then he added, in a different tone, “the most dastardly scoundrel poacher that ever wanted an ounce of lead, sir. Let us go back to the men, for I have little time to waste”. “Cool fellow”, thought Rufus; “waste of time to talk to me, is it? But what eyes the man must have”! And so he had, and ears too. Bull Garnet saw and heard every single thing that passed within the rim of his presence. No matter what he was doing, or to whom he was talking, no matter what was afoot, or what temper he was in, he saw and heard as clearly as if his whole attention were on it, every moving, breathing, speaking, or spoken thing, within the range of human antennæ. So a spider knows if even a midge or a brother spiderʼs gossamer floats in the dewy unwoven air beyond his octagonal subtlety. From this extraordinary gift of Bull Garnet, as well as from his appearance, and the force of his character, the sons of the forest were quite convinced that he was under league to the devil.