It happened that Clerk Gum had business on hand the day of the inquest, which obliged him to go to Garchester. He reached home after dark; and the first thing he saw was his wife, in what he was pleased to call a state of semi-idiocy. The tea-things were laid on the table, and substantial refreshment in the shape of cold meat, and a plate of muffins ready for toasting, all for the clerk's regalement. But Mrs. Gum herself sat on a low chair by the fire, her eyes swollen with crying. "What's the matter now?" was the clerk's first question. "Oh, Gum, I told you you ought not to have gone off to-day. You might have stayed for the inquest." "Much good I should do the inquest, or the inquest do me," retorted the clerk. "Has Becky gone?" "Long ago. Gum, that dream's coming round. I said it would. I _told_ you there was ill in store for Lord Hartledon; and that Pike was mixed up in it, and Mr. Elster also in some way. If you'd only listen to me--" The clerk, who had been brushing his hat and shaking the dust from his outer coat--for he was a careful man with his clothes, and always well-dressed--brought down his hand upon the table with some temper. "Just stop that. I've heard enough of that dream, and of all your dreams. Confounded folly! Haven't I trouble and worry enough upon my mind, without your worrying me every time I come in about your idiotic dreams?" "Well," returned Mrs. Gum, "if the dream's nothing, I'd like to ask why they had Pike up to-day before them all?" "Who had him up?" asked the clerk, after a pause. "Had him up where?" "Before the people sitting on the body of Lord Hartledon. Lydia Jones brought me the news just now. 'They had Pike the poacher up,' says she. 'He was up before the jury, and had to confess to it.' 'Confess to what,' said I. 'Why, that he was about in the woods when my lord met his end,' said she; 'and it's to know how my lord did meet it, and whether the poacher mightn't have dealt that blow on his temple and robbed him after it.' Gum--" "There's no suspicion of foul play, is there?" interrupted the clerk, in strangely subdued tones. "Not that I know of, except in Lydia's temper," answered Mrs. Gum. "But I don't like to hear he was up there at all." "Lydia Jones is a foul-tongued woman, capable of swearing away any man's life. Is Pike in custody?" "Not yet. They've let him off for the present. Oh, Gum, often and often do I wish my days were ended!" "Often and often do I wish I'd a quiet house to come to, and not be bothered with dreams," was the scornful retort. "Suppose you toast the muffins." She gave a sigh or two, put her cap straight, smoothed her ragged hair, and meekly rose to obey. The clerk was carefully folding up the outer coat, for it was one he wore only on high-days, when he felt something in the pocket--a small parcel. "I'd almost forgotten this," he exclaimed, taking it out. "Thanks to you, Nance! What with your dreams and other worryings I can't think of my proper business."