Alice Carden promised to act discreetly. There was no time to say more, for Fielden was beside them, and Alice found herself bowing to him as if he were a new acquaintance. "You have not been here before?" he asked. "This is my first visit to Haredale," Alice said. "But I have seen you before, Mr. Field. Don't you remember you were with my father and Sir George at Mirst Park a day or two ago? We were not introduced then." "Oh, I have not forgotten it," Fielden laughed. "I understand you are an old friend of May's, I mean Miss Haredale's. Would you mind if I came over to-night after dinner?" May flashed a glance at the speaker. "We shall be delighted," she said. "I fancy my father told me he expected Mr. Copley, too." Fielden said nothing for a moment or two; then it suddenly occurred to him that he had forgotten an important matter which would detain him that evening. He understood what May had hinted to him. He knew it was hardly prudent for him to be much at Haredale Park whilst Copley was in the neighbourhood. By way of turning the conversation, he suggested that the girls should dismount and inspect the stables. "Nothing I should like better," Alice cried. "Then come on," Fielden said eagerly. "Let me help you down. You will find the stables everything to be desired. They are modern, luxurious, and nothing appears to have been overlooked. From first to last they must have cost about twice as much as the house. We have a dozen helpers more than are necessary; indeed, things are conducted on a most lavish scale." "And the horses?" Alice asked. "Are they----" "Well, as to the horses, the less said about them the better. They are a pretty moderate lot. Perhaps later we may weed them out a bit. But come and see for yourself." It was growing dusk by the time the inspection was over. Then the two girls walked back towards the archway which led into the wide stable-yard. Outside the gate two of the stable helps were engaged in an altercation with a seedy-looking tramp in an advanced state of intoxication. "Excuse me for a moment," Fielden said, "I must see what is wrong. Now, my man, what are you doing here?" It was easy for the girls to notice what was going on and to hear every word that was said. At the tones of authority in Fielden's voice the tramp looked up and made a ludicrous effort to pull himself together. Over his right eye there was a fresh cut, from which the blood was trickling. The helpers, too, showed signs of punishment, and a desire to fling out the stranger, but they dropped back as Fielden appeared. "I came to see Mr. Copley," the tramp said. "Mr. Copley isn't here," Fielden said curtly. "Still, if you want him, it would be as well to ask for him in a proper manner. What do you mean by pushing yourself forward in this fashion?"