The only reply was a scowl and Hannah changed her tone. “I’m vexing you,” she said soothingly; “I know you didn’t mean it. It’s as father says, you go t’ straight road if you grumble at t’ ruts; but I wish from my soul you weren’t always looking as if you’d made a meal o’ baking-powder.” The conversation was interrupted at this point by a knock at the door and the raising of the latch, and as Hannah got to her feet a girl entered the room and unwrapped the scarf that had covered her neck and shoulders. Jagger’s face lost its look of inertness when he recognised the visitor. “Nay, Nancy! Who’d have thought of you popping in at this time o’ night?” was Hannah’s greeting; but the tone was cordial and not as overcharged with surprise as the words implied. “Do you call it late?” the newcomer asked indifferently. “In Airlee we should have said the evening was just beginning. _I’m_ not going to bed just yet, but I won’t keep you two up though Jagger’ll be able to lie a bit longer than usual in the morning. Keturah’s only just told me that you’re sacked,” she continued, turning eyes that were more curious than sympathetic on the young man; “and that a stranger has got your job; and I dodged them both and came down to see what you’re going to do.” “A stranger got my job, do you say?” inquired Jagger as Nancy sat down in his father’s chair. “Who is he?” He was vexed, and face and tone showed it; it was just another instance of Baldwin’s cursed good luck. “I don’t know. Somebody who had walked over from Scaleber to seek a job, and heard you rowing.” “We didn’t row,” returned Jagger. “I just told Mr. Briggs a thing or two that was on my mind as quietly as I’m talking to you now, and then he slipped his temper and went for me tooth and nail. Called me a thief into t’ bargain, and that bides a bit of swallowing.” “He’ll take you on again,” said Nancy confidently; “not because he loves you, but because he knows when he’s well served; and I daresay he’ll give you your rise, too, when his gorge goes down. You’re short of tact, Jagger. You get naught out of Baldwin by holding a pistol at his head.” Jagger laughed, knowingly and triumphantly. “I’ve a card up my sleeve that’ll pull Mr. Briggs’ face to twice its length. If he was to double my wage I wouldn’t go back to a man that’s called me thief. I’m starting for myself, Nancy, as soon as I can get a few things together.” “Starting for yourself—here?” The question was rapped out, and the expression of the speaker’s eyes became suddenly hostile.