"Just," replied the fat boy. Mr. Tupman looked at him very hard again but there was not a wink of his eye or a movement in his face. Mr. Tupman took the arm of the spinster aunt and walked toward the house. The fat boy followed behind. "He knows nothing of what has happened," he whispered. "Nothing," said the spinster aunt. There was a sound behind them as of an imperfectly suppressed chuckle. Mr. Tupman turned sharply around. No, it could not have been the fat boy. There was not a gleam of mirth or anything but feeding in his whole visage. "He must have been fast asleep," whispered Mr. Tupman. "I have not the least doubt of it," replied Miss Rachel, and they both laughed heartily. Mr. Tupman was wrong. The fat boy for once had not been fast asleep. He was awake, wide awake to everything that had happened. The day following, Joe saw his mistress, Mr. Wardle's aged mother, sitting in the arbor. Without saying a word he walked up to her, stood perfectly still and said nothing. The old lady was easily frightened; most old ladies are, and her first impression was that Joe was about to do her some bodily harm with a view of stealing what money she might have with her. She therefore watched his motions, or rather lack of motions, with feelings of intense terror, which were in no degree lessened by his finally coming close to her and shouting in her ear, for she was very deaf, "Missus!" "Well, Joe," said the trembling old lady, "I am sure I have been a good mistress to you." He nodded. "You have always been treated very kindly?" He nodded. "You have never had too much to do?" He nodded. "You have always had enough to eat?" This last was an appeal to the fat boy's most sensitive feelings. He seemed touched as he replied, "I know I has." "Then what do you want to do now?" "I wants to make yo' flesh creep," replied the boy. This sounded like a very blood-thirsty method of showing one's gratitude and so the old lady was as much frightened as before. "What do you think I saw in this very arbor last night?" inquired the boy. "Mercies, what?" screamed the old lady, alarmed at the mysterious manner of the corpulent youth. "A strange gentleman as had his arm around her, a kissin' and huggin'." "Who, Joe, who? None of the servants, I hope?" "Worser than that," roared the fat boy in the old lady's ear. "None of my granddaughters." "Worser than that," said Joe. "Worse than that?" said the old lady, who had thought this the extreme limit. "Who was it, Joe? I insist upon knowing!" The fat boy looked cautiously about and having finished his survey shouted in the old lady's ear, "Miss Rachel!" "What?" said the old lady in a shrill tone, "speak louder!" "Miss Rachel," roared the fat boy.