Hew was smoking on the terrace one forenoon, deep in the study of his betting-book--a study that did seem a very pleasant one, if one might judge from the expression of his face--when he saw Mr. John Balderstone, the faithful and jolly old factor and friend of the family, coming ambling up the long avenue, top-booted, on his favourite old roadster, an easy-going bay, high in the forehead, round in the barrel, and deep in the chest, as John averred, 'all that a roadster should be;' and he dismounted at the entrance door with the air of a man who felt himself at home and sure of a welcome. 'Now, what can this old buffer want?' thought Hew, sulkily, as the rider threw his reins to Pate Pastern, who took the bay round to the stables; 'but he is always coming here, whether wanted or not.' 'Good-morning, Mr. Balderstone,' he added, but without offering his cold, damp hand, which the visitor had never taken since the insulting trick had been played him with the pair of jack-spurs. Between these two there was no open war, but a species of armed truce: a veiled dislike or species of civil suspicion. Mr. Balderstone knew pretty well the secret character of Hew, and cordially detested him. Hew knew the great influence the old factor possessed with Sir Piers, and had mentally resolved that when he 'came to his kingdom,' _i.e._ succeeded to the title and estate of Eaglescraig, Mr. John Balderstone should receive his _congé_, and pretty quickly, too; and that old Tunley, and even Sandy Swanshott, the aged game-keeper, together with Mrs. Garth, would have marching-orders, also. But the general 'was so confoundedly hale--seemed as if he would never die!' 'Did I not see Miss Montgomerie on the terrace?' said Mr. Balderstone, with a twinkle in his bright yet dark-grey eyes; 'she need not avoid me--bless her!--eh, billing and cooing as usual, I suppose, Mr. Hew?' Hew muttered an ugly word under his red moustache, and said, coarsely: 'I'll make my innings now, I suppose, as I have the field to myself.' 'And no red-coated rivals--eh?' 'Look here, Balderstone, I don't like chaff; but I can tell you that Sir Piers did me a deuced lot of mischief by bringing that fellow here from Dumbarton, and petting him, egad! as if he had been his own son. He is a regular old fool, Sir Piers!' 'I can hear nothing said against him, Mr. Hew.' 'At all events, I may indulge in a few bitter thoughts of this base-born interloper, who has caused so much turmoil.' 'Base-born--how know you that he is so?' 'Bah! I heard all about him in Edinburgh.' 'Not all, surely?' 'Yes, as sure as I am the heir to Eaglescraig! What are you laughing at?' demanded Hew, who had been in Tunley's pantry, sharply. 'I do laugh, and heartily too; but pardon me,' said old John Balderstone, whose paunch, enfolded in a deep corduroy waistcoat, was actually shaking, while Hew, by some intuition of coming mischief, he knew not why, eyed him dubiously, even savagely.