“This mule, of course. Nahum is an oddity! His avocations are multiform. He is coachman, groom, hostler and handy man generally at the Red Fox,” Mr. Campbell explained as he took his daughter out to the carriage. It was not a “fly” at all, though they called it so; it was a strong, snug carryall, covered all over with a black tarpaulin, except the front, which was open. It was drawn by a stout mule. Mr. Campbell put his daughter and her child in the sheltered back seat and placed himself beside the coachman in the front. And the carryall rolled away over the murky moor until it seemed to be swallowed up in the darkness. But “Miss Nancy” knew the road, and, if she had not known it, her driver did. So they went on in safety. CHAPTER IV STARTLING NEWS Nahum opened conversation with Mr. Campbell. “The last of the workmen have left to-day, sir,” he said. “The workmen? Oh, the decorators and upholsterers who were fitting up Haymore Hold for the young squire and his bride.” “Yes, sir. All is finished in the very latest style, and with all the modernest improvements. And they do say as there is not a place in the North Riding aquil to it for magnificence and splendiferousness! They do that!” “Ah, when are the young pair expected?” “That I can’t jest tell you, sir. But Mr. Isaiah Prowt, the bailiff, do say as he is to receive a week’s notice of their arrival, so as to have the triumphanting arches put up all along the road leading into the village and the avenue from the park gate to the hall.” “That will make a fine display, Nahum, but an expensive one. However, I suppose it will give pleasure to the people.” “It will that, your reverence. And that is not all! They are to have tents and markees and pavilions all over the lawn, and a great outdoor gala for all the tenants, and even the villagers who are not tenants, and for the whole neighborhood; in fact, men, women, and children, sir, are to be feasted on the fat of the land, and have dances and games, and all that, all day long, and at night fireworks! All at the young squire’s expense.” “It will be a boon to the village, where there is never even a market day or a fair.” “It will that, sir. Why, the people have gone stark, staring mad over the very thought of it, though they don’t the least know when it is to come off. But they are looking forrid to it. For, as you say, sir, they never have anything here. Chuxton is the market town, and the fairs go there on market day.” “So they never have a public fête unless it is given by the lord of the manor on the occasion of a marriage, or a coming of age in the family?” “And never then, up to this toime. Such a day as this coming on has never been seen at Haymore in the memory of man. The old squires never did nothing like it.” “No? Why was that?”