“Who might the packet have come from?” enquired Aaron French; but Tibby could not tell. She believed in her future master and gave the man a short answer. “That’s his business. Us all have our troubles.” “I be the last to speak anything but praise of the gen’leman,” declared Aaron. “Yet he is a man of mystery, an’ his goings an’ comings work upon no rule that a plain head can figure out to itself.” “Done a purpose,” declared Joe Mudge; “nought goes home to a maiden’s heart like mystery. ’Tis meat an’ drink to a fansical female. A fellow do bulk large in the innocent eyes of women folk if they think he’ve got a hidden side to un—a side as nought but the moon do know.” They returned to the subject of the packet; and then it fell out that, within half an hour of that time, the great fact already alluded to faced Elias Bassett, and an accident thrust the fortunes of a man and a woman into his hands. As he left the “Ring o’ Bells” a little later, his mind upon the packet, Nicholas Merle himself set out on horseback, and galloped away in a direction that the keeper pursued more slowly on foot. And as he viewed the receding figure, a speck of white suddenly fluttered into the air behind it and fell upon the moor-path. Ignorant of his loss, the rider went forward, and Bassett, convinced that he had seen the identical object of recent discussion, marched along his way. His purpose, arrived at hastily, was to pick up the letter, conceal it, and give it to Minnie with the frank advice that she would do well to read it; but in the event he did no such thing, for as he stooped to gather up the paper, a thud of hoofs came to his ear and he saw that Nicholas Merle had discovered his loss and was returning to make it good if possible. He dropped the writing unseen, a flash of wisdom leading to that course; but he did not do so until two words had chanced to fall upon his eyes—two words of such tremendous significance that they quite dazed the mind of Elias. “_Dear husband_—” He read that much, then moved quickly away from the letter and pretended to be picking and eating blackberries a hundred yards distant, as Merle rode past him with his eyes straining to right and left of the way. The rider banished his care and cracked a jest with Bassett; then, looking backward, without appearing to do so, Elias saw Merle dismount and clutch up his letter. A moment later he resumed his ride, and went whistling along upon his great, bright horse. CHAPTER III