"What impudence!" exclaimed Mr. Field, as he read the demand, "as if I would bind myself down on paper to anything of the kind. The old man wouldn’t budge when I made him the offer, fair and square, nearly a year ago now, and I’m not going to renew it to this scamp of a son, who they tell me has just returned to idle about the place like a vagabond. The next gale will take the house down on to the beach, and the sea will soon eat away the rest of their paltry field, so I’m not likely to pay this ne’er-do-weel a hundred pounds for sitting by to see it go. Once their little bit of land has disappeared I’ll be careful to put breakwaters along the shore to prevent the waves doing any further damage to my own property, but the sooner that portion of the cliff falls over the better for me." "Old Timothy’s son says as he’ll be much obliged if you could see him for a few minutes," said Jenkins, who had stood meekly by during this tirade. "There’s something rather special he wants to say." "You may send him up then," replied Mr. Field grimly, "and I’ll give him a piece of my mind. I don’t think he’ll favour me with a second call, once I’ve had my say." "You’ll have a gay old time in there," whispered Jenkins as he ushered Ben into the room. "I wouldn’t be in your shoes for anything." The footman wondered at the strange smile which stole over Ben’s face at the words. "I expect I’ll get on all right," was the reply. Vainly did Jenkins apply his eye and ear to the keyhole, hoping to catch something of the interview within, but the apartment was a long one, and the occupants were at the further end, so he had to retire baffled to the hall. It would have edified him could he have seen what was taking place inside. Mr. Field stood with his back to the fire, ready to let loose the fury of his wrath upon the intruder, but as Ben advanced, the great man’s countenance suddenly changed. His jaw fell and his eyes glared like some startled animal when an enemy is near. Ben walked quietly up to him. "I suppose I’d better introduce myself as you don’t seem exactly to remember me. At any rate you don’t give the warm sort of welcome an old pal might expect. B. B., Blustering Ben, alias Benjamin Green, at your service, sir." *CHAPTER VIII* *Robin Hood’s Lair* Contrary to Mr. Field’s expectations, this was not by any means Ben’s last visit to him. Sometimes he would be absent from the village for a week at a time, but on his return no long period would elapse before he presented himself again at Farncourt, and to the surprise of the household, never failed to gain admittance to their master’s presence. "Oh, I knew him in past days," was Ben’s reply in answer to the many questions which were addressed to him. "Why shouldn’t a fellow sometimes go up to have a chat with an old friend?"