"Bring a lanthorn, Jem, can't yer," called he, turning his face towards the cottage, the door of which still remained open. "Bring a light; yer was mighty anxious just now to come out when yer wasn't wanted, and now yer are, yer don't care to show yer face." He had scarcely finished speaking when another man emerged from the cottage, a hand was placed on the lock, and with a clatter the gate swung back to the other side of the road. "I've half a mind to give you a sound horsewhipping," said Charles, passing through, followed by Bob, the latter venting his displeasure in a low suppressed growl, "but I hope your wife will save me the trouble, so I shall reserve it for some future opportunity." "Thank yer Sir. She takes to it kindly she do, and don't want no 'swading." "I hope she will give you an extra dose of it at all events," said Charles. "Is that you, Grant?" he added, addressing the other man. "It's scarcely safe for you to be out so late, is it?" "You've heard all about the trial then, Sir?" questioned Grant. "I read an account of it in the papers, and was sorry enough for poor Tom." "Most everybody was Sir, and the parson gave us a fine discourse the Sunday after his funeral; but somehow preaching don't heal a broken heart, and Susan do take on awful at times; she haven't forgotten him, and it's my belief never will." "Poor thing! Her husband's was a sudden and sad death, shot down like a dog by the poachers. The gang are still prowling about, so they say." "Yes, Sir, and will do more mischief yet, they're a bad, desperate set, the lot that's here this year." "I suppose you are keeping this man company, or looking after him in his drunken state. You would scarcely be going home alone at this late hour of the evening?" "No, Sir. I am going home. I've been up to the Hall, and stayed there longer than I ought." "It is too late a great deal for you to be out, and the whole country round about swarming with poachers." "True, Sir. But I shan't go before my time--" "Nonsense!" interrupted Charles. "Come, I tell you what; I'll see you home, I have nothing better to do; but first get that man safely housed somewhere, do not leave him out here to be run over." "Oh! I'll soon settle him, sir." And while Charles Linchmore struck a light and lit another cigar, Grant went once more into the cottage. Opening a door, he called up the stairs, "Mrs. Marks! Here's your husband. I've brought him home rather unsteady on his pins; you'd better come down and see after him at once afore he gets into mischief." "He is! Is he?" screamed a shrill voice from the top. "I expected as much. I warrant I'll soon make him steady again!" With which satisfactory reply Grant rejoined Charles Linchmore, and they left the 'pikeman singing a drunken song, and vainly trying to shut the gate, the opening of which had previously so baffled his endeavours.