"Mother an' me's talked it over," she said. "We tak? th' 'Ha'penny Reader,' an' theer wur a tale in it as towd o' one o' th' nobility as wed a workin' chap--an' mother she said as happen she wur loike her an' ud do it, but I said she would na. Th' chap i' th' tale turnt out to be a earl, as ud been kidnapped by th' gypsies, but yo' nivver wur kidnapt, an' she's noan o' th' soft koind. Th' Lady Geral_dine_ wur a difrient mak'. Theer wur na mich i' her to my moind. She wur allus makkin' out as brass wur nowt, an' talkin' about 'humble virchew' as if theer wur nowt loike it. Yo' would na ketch _her_ talkin' i' that road. Mother she'd sit an' cry until th' babby's bishop wur wet through, but I nivver seed nowt to cry about mysen. She getten th' chap i' th' eend, an' he turnt out to be a earl after aw. But I towd mother as marryin' a workin' man wur na i' _her_ loine." Murdoch burst into a harsh laugh and got up. "I've been pretty well talked over, it seems," he said. "I didn't know that before." "Aye," replied Janey, coolly. "We've talked yo' ower a good bit. Are yo' goin'?" "Yes," he answered, "I am going." He went out with an uncertain movement, leaving the door open behind him. As he descended the steps, the light from the room, slanting out into the darkness, struck athwart a face, the body pertaining to which seemed to be leaning against the palings, grasping them with both hands. It was the face of Mr. Briarley, who regarded him with a mingled expression of anxiety and desire to propitiate. "Is it yo'?" he whispered, as Murdoch neared him. "Yes," he was answered, somewhat shortly. Mr. Briarley put out a hand and plucked him by the sleeve. "I've been waitin' fur yo'," he said in a sonorous whisper which only failed to penetrate the innermost recesses of the dwelling through some miracle. Murdoch turned out of the gate. "Why?" he asked. Mr. Briarley glanced toward the house uneasily, and also up and down the road. "Le's get out o' th' way a bit," he remarked. Murdoch walked on, and he shuffled a few paces behind him. When they got well into the shadow of the hedge, he stopped. Suddenly he dropped upon his knees and crawling through a very small gap into the field behind, remained there for a few seconds; then he re-appeared panting. "Theer's no one theer," he said. "I would na ha' risked theer bein' one on 'em lyin' under th' hedge." "One of whom?" Murdoch inquired. "I did na say who," he answered. When he stood on his feet again, he took his companion by the button. "Theer's a friend o' moine," he said, "as ha' sent a messidge to yo'. This here's it--'_Look out!_'" "What does it mean?" Murdoch asked. "Speak more plainly." Mr. Briarley became evidently disturbed. "Nay," he said, "that theer's plain enow fur me. It ud do _my_ business i' quick toime if I----"