"Attend to me, sir," cried Wilton, in his sternest bench manner. "Well, I am a-try'n' to, master, on'y he keeps on kedgin' me." "Where did you see my son and--er--the lady?" "Where did I sin 'em? Up road." "Where were you?" "Ahint the hedge." "And what were you doing behind the hedge--wiring?" "Naw. On'y got me bat-fowling nets." "But you were hiding, sir?" "Well, what o' that? 'Bliged to hide. Can't go out anywhere o' nights now wi'out summun watching yer. Can't go for a few sparrers but some on 'em says its pardridges." "What time was it?" "Hey?" "What time was it?" "I d'know; nine or ten, or 'leven. Twelve, may-be." "Well?" "Hey?" "What then?" "What then? Nothin' as I knows on. Yes, there weer; he puts his arm round her waist, and she give him a dowse in the faace." "Humph! Which way did they go then?" "Up road." "Did you follow them?" "What'd I got to follow 'em for? Shouldn't want nobody to follow me when I went out wi' a gal." Wilton frowned. "Did you see any carriage about, waiting?" "Naw." "What did you do then?" "Waited till they was out o' sight." "Yes, and what then?" "Ketched sparrers, and they arn't game." The lout looked round, grinning at all present, as if he had posed the magistrate in whose presence he was standing, till his eyes lit on Mrs Wilton, who was listening to him intently, and to her he raised his hand, passing the open palm upward past his face till it was as high as he could reach, and then descending the arc of a circle, a movement supposed in rustic schools to represent a most respectful bow. "Ah, Barker, Barker!" said the recipient, shaking her head at him; "you never come to the Sunday school now." "Grow'd too big, missus," said the lad, grinning, and then noisily using his cuff for the pocket-handkerchief he lacked. "We are never too big to learn to be good, Barker," continued Mrs Wilton, "and I'm afraid you are growing a bad boy now." "Oh, I don't know, missus; I shouldn't be a bad 'un if there was no game." "That will do, that will do," said the Squire, impatiently. "That's all you know, then, sir?" "Oh, no; I knows a lot more than that," said the lad, grinning. "Then why the deuce don't you speak?" "What say?" "Tell me what more you know about Mr Claud and the lady, and I'll give you another shilling." "Will yer?" cried the lad, eagerly. "Well, I've seed'd 'em five or six times afore going along by the copse and down the narrow lane, and I sin him put his arm round her oncet, and I was close by, lying clost to a rabbud hole; and she says, `How dare you, sir! how dare you!' just like that I dunno any more, and that makes two shillin'." "There; be off. Take him away, Samuel, and give him a horn of beer." "Yes sir--Now, then, come on." But the lad stood and grinned, first at the Squire and then at Mrs Wilton, rubbing his hands down his sides the while. "D'yer hear?" whispered the footman, as the groom opened the door. "Come on." "Sheeawn't."