Was his wife given to eavesdropping? I should have thought not--she was too independent for it. But there she was, standing just within the little parlour, and certainly listening. The Squire caught sight of her gown, and called out, "How d'ye do, Mrs. Rymer?" upon which she came forward. There was a scared look on her face also, as if its impudence had shrunk out of it. She did not stay an instant--just answered the Squire, and went away again. "We must come to the bottom of the business somehow, you know, Rymer," concluded the Squire, as he was leaving. "It would never do to let the thief get off. What I should think is, that it must be the same fellow who robbed the butcher----" "No, no," hastily interrupted Rymer. "_No!_ One of the gang, then. Any way, you'll help us all you can. I should like to bring the lot to trial. If you get to learn anything, send me word at once." Rymer answered "Yes," and attended us to the door. Then the Squire went back to the cattle-food; but we got away at last. "Thomas Rymer breaks, Johnny, I think. He doesn't seem in spirits somehow. It's hard for a man to be in a shop all day long, from year's end to year's end, and never have an hour's holiday." Ever after this, when the affair was spoken of with Rymer, he showed more or less the same sort of shrinking--as if the subject gave him some terrible pain. Nobody but myself noticed it; and I only because I looked out for it. I believe he saw I thought something; for when he caught my eye, as he did more than once, his own fell. But some curious circumstances connected with him have to be told yet. One summer evening, when it was getting towards dusk, he came over to Crabb Cot to see the Squire. Very much to the pater's surprise, Rymer put a five-pound note into his hand. "Is the money found?" cried he, eagerly. "No, sir, it is not found," said Rymer, in a subdued tone. "It seems likely to remain a mystery to the last. But I wish to restore it myself. It lies upon my conscience--being postmaster here--that such a loss should have taken place. With three parts of the public, and more, it is the Timberdale side that gets the credit of being to blame. And so--it weighs heavily upon me. Though I don't see how I could have prevented it: and I lie awake night after night, thinking it over." The Squire stared for awhile, and then pushed back the note. "Why, goodness, man!" cried he, when his amazement let him speak, "you don't suppose I'd take the money from you! What in the world!--what right have you to bear the loss? You must be dreaming." "I should feel better satisfied," said poor Rymer, in his subdued voice of pain. "Better satisfied."