The Squire came home; he had been staying some time with friends in Gloucestershire; but Mrs. Coney did not come--although Mrs. Todhetley kept sending me for news. Twice I saw her talking to the strange man; who I believed made his abode in the Ravine. Tod watched, as he had threatened to do; and would often appear with in-drawn lips. There was active warfare between him and his step-mother: at least if you can say that when both kept silence. As to the Squire, he observed nothing, and knew nothing: and no one enlightened him. It seems a long time, I dare say, when reading of this, as if it had extended over a month of Sundays; but I don't think it lasted much more than a fortnight in all. One evening, quite late, when the sun was setting, and the Squire was smoking his pipe on the lawn, talking to me and Tod, Lena and her mother came in at the gate. In spite of the red rays lighting up Mrs. Todhetley's face, it struck me that I had never seen it look more careworn. Lena put her arms on Tod's knee, and began telling about a fright she had had: of a big toad that leaped out of the grass, and made her scream and cry. She cried "because nobody was with her." "Where was mamma?" asked Tod; but I am sure he spoke without any ulterior thought. "Mamma had gone to the zigzag stile to talk to the man. She told me to wait for her." "What man?" cried the Squire. "Why, the man," said Lena logically. "He asks Hugh to go with him over the sea to see the birds and the red coral." If any one face ever turned whiter than another, Mrs. Todhetley's did then. Tod looked at her, sternly, ungenerously; and her eyes fell. She laid hold of Lena's hand, saying it was bed-time. "What man is the child talking about?" the Squire asked her. "She talks about so many people," rather faintly answered Mrs. Todhetley. "Come, Lena dear; Hannah's waiting for you. Say good-night." The Squire, quite unsuspicious, thought no more. He got up and walked over to the beds to look at the flowers, holding his long churchwarden pipe in his mouth. Tod put his back against the tree. "It is getting complicated, Johnny." "What is?" "What is! Why, madam's drama. She is afraid of that hinted scheme of her friend's--the carrying-off Master Hugh beyond the seas." He spoke in satire. "Do you think so?" I returned. "Upon my honour I do. She must be an idiot! I should like to give her a good fright." "Tod, I think she is frightened enough without our giving her one." "I think she is. She must have caught up the idea from overhearing Hannah's gossip with old Thomas. This afternoon Hugh was running through the little gate with me; madam came flying over the lawn and begged me not let him out of my hand, or else to leave him indoors. But for being my father's wife, I should have asked her if her common-sense had gone wool-gathering." "I suppose it has, Tod. Fancy a kidnapper in these days! The curious thing is, that she should fear anything of the sort."