A chair stood near and Haworth took it. "I'll sit down and wait for him," he replied. "Tha'lt ha' to wait a good bit then," said Miss Briarley. "He'll noan be whoam till midneet." She stood in no awe of her visitor. She had heard him discussed too freely and too often. Of late years she had not unfrequently assisted in the discussions herself. She was familiar with his sins and short-comings and regarded him with due severity. "He'll noan be whoam till midneet," she repeated as she seated herself on her stool. But Haworth did not move. He was in a mysterious humor, it was plain. In a minute more his young companion began to stare at him with open eyes. She saw something in his face which bewildered her. "He's getten more than's good fur him," she was about to decide shrewdly, when he leaned forward and touched her with the handle of the whip he held. "You're a sharp little lass, I warrant," he said. Janey regarded him with some impatience. He was flushed and somewhat disheveled and spoke awkwardly. "You're a sharp little lass, I'll warrant," he said again. "I ha' to be," she responded, tartly. "Tha'd be sharp thysen if tha had as mich to look after as I ha'." "I dare say," he answered. "I dare say." Then added even more awkwardly still, "I've heard Murdoch say you were--Murdoch." The disfavor with which she had examined him began to be mingled with distrust. She hitched her stool a few inches backward. "Mester Murdoch!" she echoed. "Aye, I know him well enow." "He comes here every day or so?" "Aye, him an' me's good friends." "He's got a good many friends," he said. "Aye," she answered. "He's a noice chap. Most o' folk tak' to him. Theer's Mr. Ffrench now and _her_." "He goes there pretty often?" "Aye, oftener than he goes any wheer else. They mak' as mich o' him as if he wur a gentleman." "Did _he_ tell you that?" "Nay," she answered. "He does na talk mich about it. I've fun it out fro' them as knows." Then a new idea presented itself to her. "What does tha want to know fur?" she demanded with unceremonious candor. He did not tell her why. He gave no notice to her question save by turning away from the fire suddenly and asking her another. "What does he say about _her_?" He spoke in such a manner that she pushed her stool still farther back, and sat staring at him blankly and with some indignation. "He does na say _nowt_ about her," she exclaimed "What's up wi' thee?" The next moment she uttered an ejaculation and the book of memoirs fell upon the floor. A flame shot up from the fire and showed her his face. He drew forth his purse and, opening it, took out a coin. The light fell upon that too and showed her what it was. "Do you see that?" he asked. "Aye," she answered, "it's a half-sov'rin." "I'll give it to you," he said, "if you'll tell me what he says and what he does. You're sharp enow to have seen summat, and I'll give it you if you'll tell me."