Yet there was danger! he had felt it from the moment when he knew that the Squire was dissatisfied with the letter he had received from Mr Lee, that he had laid it on one side as a matter in need of explanation, and that he was determined to speak to Mr Lee on his return. The letter _might_ have been opened, he could not be sure that it had not been; and in any case investigations were dangerous--for he was aware that the slightest suspicion on the part of his employer would be sufficient to alter the conduct of the Squire. Meanwhile the continued kindness with which Mr Mallory treated him supplied the burn of a perpetual reproach; and there were moments when he could have found it in his heart to throw himself at his master’s feet and confess his fault. He could not--the fault belonged also to another, and he could not betray another in the attempt to save himself. So struggled his feelings during the course of harvest-work, whilst blue sky shone down upon the golden fields, and gleaners with children by their sides made up their bundles, and men and boys shouted above last loads of corn. It was only when harvest was over, and the days became short and grey, that he began to be torn with another pain. Miss Gillan had never seen him since a too-well-remembered evening; she had never again sent for him to the Farm. At first to poor Nat this seemed only natural; but, as time went on and there came no sign from her, the desire to see her became a craving pain. Oh, he had made up his mind in the first rush of penitence that he would never go to the Farm again, that if she asked for him he would send a refusal, and that he would break resolutely from her influence. And now there was no need for so much determination, for it was evident that she did not care for him. And all his resolve became lost in the craving; ‘If he could only see her and speak to her again!’ Through a warm, cloudy morning in September when the Fens were grey, shadowy, and misty sunlight lay on the village streets, whilst far in the eastern sky was an ominous tinge of red--through these signs of approaching tempest Nat found his way once more to the Farm. He was trying to justify himself by many reasons--the poor dog, crawling back to his owner’s feet. Oh, he could not do without her, though he had tried to do so; it would be enough if he could see her face again. The back-door was open, and he could hear the sound of music--she was in the old kitchen, and was playing dances there. Nat trembled to feel how fast his heart was beating, so that he could scarcely pronounce the words that asked if she were within. In another minute little Molly brought back her message--Miss Gillan was obliged to him, but she would not need him again. Nat did not answer, he felt that he could not answer; without looking back he turned away at once.