“You was in a mighty hurry, sir, this morning, to get to Rede Hall before we could reach it with the warrants we hold for the arrest of certain plunderers of his Majesty’s revenue,” blurted out the brigadier, planting one hand on his hip, and thumping the table with the other as he spoke. Parson Langney was no actor; the expression which clouded his jolly face betrayed him. “Sir, I was at Rede Hall this morning, I admit,” said he, looking defiantly at the officer. “But as for what I did there, you have no right to put such an interpretation as you do upon my visit.” “Do you deny, sir, that you mentioned we were on our way thither?” roared the brigadier. “I deny, sir, that you have any right to put such questions to me,” retorted the parson quite as loudly. The gentlemen were both much heated; and it began to look, as they advanced their excited faces nearer and nearer over the table, till the tails of their bob-wigs stuck up quivering in the air, as if from mere words they would ere long come to blows. When suddenly there appeared, in the doorway of the narrow little entrance to the kitchen which filled the corner beyond the fireplace, a peacemaker in the shape of handsome Joan. She had evidently been engaged in some culinary occupation, for there were traces of flour still to be seen on her round arms, under the long black mittens which she had hastily pulled on. She had exchanged the smart tabby gown of the morning for a homelier dress, over which her long white apron hung. Her pretty brown hair, without any cap, was rolled high above her white brow. Her face was pale and anxious, as she came quickly in and thrust one hand through her father’s arm. “Let me answer him, father,” said she in a low voice. The general drew himself up. “Well, madam, and what have you to say?” said he, unconsciously softening his tone, as no man could help doing when addressing a creature so fair. “It was I, sir, who begged my father to give up his hunting and to come to Rede Hall with me; and if you have any fault to find with that action, ’tis I should bear the blame of it.” “And pray, mistress, what need had you to go to the farm in such a monstrous hurry?” “That, sir, frankly I would rather not tell.” “Ho, ho, ’tis told then! ’Twas without doubt to put these rascals on their guard, and to enable them to get away ere we came up!” Joan made no answer. “You can’t deny it, madam! Remember, we have already had proof of your sympathy with the ruffians, in that you let Gardener Tom escape from your house when you knew we were after him!” “Sir, there was a higher duty before us then, than that of aiding in the capture of a criminal. We would have done the same for you, had you been staying under our roof, ay, had you been accused of murder,” said the girl, with spirit. “Well said, my lass,” cried her father.