This scene had passed within a few paces of the gate, and I had been so preoccupied that I had not heard the clatter of an approaching horse, and in consequence was taken utterly aback when a loud voice behind me cried, "What's this? What's this?" and immediately afterwards the lash of a whip fell smartly on my back, causing me to spring round in a heat of indignation. A gentleman had just ridden in at the gate, and, taking in the situation at a glance, had begun the chastisement which he had much reason to suppose I deserved. What with my hunger, the boy's insults, and the sting of the lash, I was now roused to as high a pitch of fury as I had ever in my life reached. I had taken a step towards the horse, to drag the rider from his saddle, and he had raised the whip once more to strike, when a voice from the direction of the house caused us both to pause. "Don't, uncle; oh, please don't!" Involuntarily I turned, and saw a young girl flying down the path, her long unloosed black hair streaming behind her. She came to us with flushed cheeks, and breathless with running. "It was all Roger's fault," she cried. "I saw it, heard it all. The poor man is starving and wanted to work for food, and Roger was rude to him." Her uncle looked at her, and at me, and at the boy, who had risen from the ground, wearing a sullen and crestfallen look. "Is that the right of it, Roger?" asked the gentleman. "He said so, sir," he replied, "but he looks such a villainous tramp, and you know what lies they tell--why, look here!" He stooped and picked something from the ground. "He said he was hungry, and look at this!" He held up my crown piece, which in the violence of my movements, I suppose, had sprung out of my tattered garment. I felt my cheeks flush hotly, and was stricken dumb in the face of this mute evidence giving me the lie. The girl gazed at me for a moment; then, her lip curling with disdain, she turned her back and walked up the path towards the house. "Well, rascal?" said the gentleman sternly. "It is mine, truly," I said. "But--" "Go fetch the men," he said to the boy. "As sure as I'm alive I'll commit you for a rogue and vagabond, for mendicancy and assault." He drew his horse across the gate so that I could not escape, while the boy hastened to the house. "You are a magistrate, sir," I ventured to say, "and sure 'tis not your custom to condemn your prisoners unheard." "Adzooks, you teach me my duty?" he cried in a rage. "You insolent scoundrel!" I held my peace, and in a few moments the boy returned, with two stablemen. "Take this fellow to the coach house," said their master. "I'll go where you please," I cried hotly, "but if those men lay a finger on me I'll crack their skulls for them." My height and my fierce aspect so well promised that I could perform my threat that the men held off and eyed their master dubiously. "Lead on, Roger!" he cried with an oath, too much incensed for further speech.