The young man was following as a matter of course; but the woodman, with his hand still on the latch, pointed to a wooden seat under the window. "Take your seat there, sir," he said, with grim determination. The other stared, and the hot blood rose to his face; but he threw himself on the bench. "Very well," he said; "I see you still think me a ghost; you'll be more easy when you see me drink. Look sharp, my good fellow." The woodman, not a whit moved by this taunt, entered the cottage, and the young man heard a bolt shot into its place. A few moments passed, and then the man came out with a plate and a glass. "Thanks," said the young man. "What's this?" "Cider--cake," was the curt answer. "Oh, thanks," repeated the other; "jolly good cider, too. Come, you're not half a bad fellow. Do you know I meant to give you a hiding when I came up to you?" "Very like," said the man, calmly. "Will you have any more?" "Another glass, thanks." With his former precaution in the way of bolting and barring, the man entered the cottage and reappeared with a refilled glass. This the young man drank more leisurely, staring with unconcealed curiosity at his entertainer. It was a kind of stare that would embarrass six men out of ten, and madden the remaining four; but the woodman bore it with the calm impassiveness of a wooden block, and stood motionless as a statue till the youth set down the glass, then he raised his hand and pointed to the west. "Yonder lies Arkdale." "Oh! How far?" "Four miles and a half by the near road. Follow me, and I will put you into it." "All right, lead on," said the other; but as he rose he turned, and while refilling his pipe stared at the closely locked cottage. "Comfortable kind of crib that, my man." The woodman nodded curtly. "You are a woodman?" Another nod. "And poacher too, eh? No offense," he added, coolly. "I only supposed so from the close way in which you keep your place locked up." "Suppose what you please," retorted the woodman, if words so calmly spoken could be called a retort. "Yonder lies your road, you'd best be taking to it." "No hurry," retorted the young man, thrusting his hands in his pockets and smiling at the ill-concealed impatience which struggled through the grave calm on the weather-beaten face. "Well, I'm coming. You're not half such a bad sort, after all. What have you got inside there that you keep so close, eh? Some of the crown jewels or some of the Queen's venison? Take my advice, old fellow--if you don't want people to be curious, don't show such anxiety to keep 'em out of your crib." The man, pacing on ahead, knit his brows as if struck by the idea. "Curious folk don't come this way, young sir," he said, reluctantly. "So I should think," retorted the other. "Well, I'm not one of the curious, though you think I am. I don't care a button what you've got there. Will you have a pipe? I've got some 'bacca."