"No, sir," replied the man, "but they’d take good care to keep out of my sight. I expect they scatter food in likely places in the woods, and when the pheasants get to know where to come for it, they catch ’em in nets, the silly things being as tame as bantams. A good price they’ll get for them too, seeing they’re all the more valuable living than dead." "Well, Jones, it’s your duty to look after the game, and if poachers can carry on their work under your very nose like that, it shows you’re not worth your salt. Get more men if you need them, to watch the place, but don’t let me hear of losses in this way again. I won’t have my property calmly stolen from me like this, so put your best foot foremost and stop it at once." "Do you want me to come with you now, sir?" asked the crestfallen man. "I see you’ve got your gun." "No," replied Mr. Field, "if I shoot anything I’ll leave it behind the wall near the gate, and you can send for it later. I’ll probably only take a look round this morning and see how things are for myself." "Everyone seems to be conspiring against me," he said to himself as he continued his walk. "What’s the use of so much money if I can’t even enjoy my own house and recreations without being imposed upon and insulted by any impudent fellow who happens to come along." Meditating on his wrongs, Mr. Field entered the little copse, and wandered aimlessly about for a few minutes, hoping to find some clue to the mysterious thefts. Suddenly a great grey cat rushed across his path and disappeared in a thick tangle of undergrowth, only three or four yards away. "There’s the poacher, if I’m not much mistaken!" he exclaimed, as he raised his gun to his shoulder and hastily fired straight into the bushes. "Missed him!" he added, as he caught sight of the grey form fleeing madly away in the direction of the road. "Hope he got a little peppering though, that will teach him not to come here again in a hurry." Before long Mr. Field also left the shelter of the wood, and proceeded homewards, his mind full of the Gloucestershire estate, to which he inclined more and more as he pondered over its advantages. *CHAPTER XV* *Alive from the Dead* That evening Mrs. Power was walking along the road which bordered the Farncourt preserves, when her attention was arrested by the sound of groaning on the other side of the wall. For a moment her heart stood still with fear, but she was not naturally timid, and the thought that someone was in trouble urged her to make closer research. She turned in the direction whence the moans came, and peeped over into the plantation. To her horror she saw a man lying on the ground, only a few steps away from her, his face pale as death and streaked with blood. "I must go to him," she said to herself, "he looks as if he were dying there, all alone in the wood." Climbing over the low wall, she soon reached his side.