"Come on. Beer." "But he arn't give me the two shillings yet." "Eh? Oh, forgot," said the Squire. "Gahn. None o' your games. Couldn't ha' forgetted it so soon." "There--Take him away." Wilton held out a couple of shillings, and the fellow snatched them, bit both between his big white teeth, stuffed one in each pocket, made Mrs Wilton another bow, and turned to go; but his wardrobe had been sadly neglected, and at the first step one of the shillings trickled down the leg of his trousers, escaped the opening into his ill-laced boot, rattled on the polished oaken floor, and then ran along, after the fashion of coins, to hide itself in the darkest corner of the room. But Barker was too sharp for it, and forgetting entirely the lessons he had learned at school about ordering "himself lowly and reverently to all his betters," he shouted: "Loo, loo, loo!" pounced upon it like a cat does upon a mouse, picked it up, and thrust it where it could join its fellow, and turned to Mrs Wilton. "Hole in the pocket," he said, confidentially, and went off to get the beer. "Bah! Savage!" growled Wilton, as the door closed. "There, Maria, no doubt about it now." "No, my dear, and we can sleep in peace." But Mrs Wilton was wrong save and except the little nap she had after dinner while her husband was smoking his pipe; for that night, just before the last light was out--that last light being in the Squire's room where certain arrangements connected with hair and pieces of paper had detained Mrs Wilton nearly half an hour after her husband had announced in regular cadence that he was fast asleep--there came a long ringing at the hall door bell. It was so utterly unexpected in the silence and solitude of the country place that Mrs Wilton sprang from her seat in front of the dressing-glass, jarring the table so that a scent-bottle fell with a crash, and injuring her knees. "James--James!" she cried. "Eh, what's the matter?" came from the bed, as the Squire sat up suddenly. "Fire! Fire! Another stack burning, I'm sure." Wilton sprang out of bed, ran to the window, tore aside the blind, flung open the casement, and looked down. "Where is it?" he shouted, for he had more than once been summoned from his bed to rick fires. "Where's what?" came in a familiar voice. Wilton darted back, letting fall the blind. "Slip on your dressing gown," he said, hastily, "and pull out those confounded things from your hair. They've come back." "Oh, my dear, and me this figure!" cried the lady, and for the next ten minutes there was a hurried sound of dressing going on. "Look sharp," said Wilton. "I'll go down and let them in. You'd better rouse up Cook and Samuel; they'll want something to eat." "I won't be two minutes, my dear. Take them in the library; the wood ashes will soon glow up again. My own darlings! I am glad."