"Thankye, sir. Much obliged, sir. But beg your pardon, sir, I'll just give Tom Johnson a 'int and he'll have the horse ready in the dog-cart time enough for you. He'll suppose it'll be wanted. It'll be all right, sir. I wouldn't go tramping it on a dark night, sir, and it's only doing the horse good. They pretty well eat their heads off here sometimes." "No, no, certainly not," said Dasent. "Thank you, though, er--Samuel, all the same." "Thank you, sir," said the man, and the donor of half-a-crown went back through the swing baize-covered door, and crossed the hall. "Needn't ha' been so proud; but p'raps he ain't got another half-crown. Lor', what a gent will do sooner than be under an obligation!" Even that half-crown seemed to have been thrown away, for upon the giver entering the drawing-room it was to find it empty, and after a little hesitation he returned to the hall, where he was just in time to encounter the footman with a wooden tray, on his way to clear away the lunch things. "Is your mistress going out?" he said. "There is no one in the drawing-room." "Gone upstairs to have her afternoon nap, sir," said the man, in a low tone. "I suppose Miss Wilton's gone up to her room, too?" Dasent nodded, took his hat, and went out, lit a cigar, and began walking up and down, apparently admiring the front of the old, long, low, red-brick house, with its many windows and two wings covered with wistaria and roses. One window--that at the end of the west wing--took his attention greatly, and he looked up at it a good deal before slowly making his way round to the garden, where he displayed a great deal of interest in the vineries and the walls, where a couple of men were busy with their ladders, nailing. Here he stood watching them for some minutes--the deft way in which they used shreds and nails to rearrange the thin bearing shoots of peach and plum. After this he passed through an arched doorway in the wall, and smoked in front of the trained pear-trees, before going on to the yard where the tool shed stood, and the ladders used for gathering the apples in the orchard hung beneath the eaves of the long, low mushroom house. Twice over he went back to the hall, but the drawing-room stood open, and the place was wonderfully quiet and still. "Anyone would think he was master here," said one of the men, as he saw Dasent pass by the third time. "Won't be much he don't know about the place when he's done." "Shouldn't wonder if he is," said the other. "Him and his father's lawyers, and the guv'nor don't seem none too chirpy just now. They say he is in Queer Street." "Who's they?" said his companion, speaking indistinctly, consequent upon having two nails and a shred between his lips. "Why, they. I dunno, but it's about that they've been a bit awkward with the guv'nor at Bramwich Bank." "That's nothing. Life's all ups and downs. It won't hurt us. We shall get our wages, I dessay. They're always paid."