"Well, not often; but last year, before that affair, there was a bad lot about. They were from Dareport--that's two miles away, down at the mouth of the river--with one or two chaps from this village, so it was said. About a fortnight--it may be three weeks--before Miss Carne was killed, there was a fight up in the woods between them and the gamekeepers. One of the keepers got stabbed, but he didn't die until some time afterwards; but the jury brought it in wilful murder all the same. It didn't matter much what verdict they brought in, 'cause the man as the evidence went against had left the country--at least, he hadn't been seen hereabouts." "And a good job too, Hiram--a good job too," Jacob Carey put in. "Yes," Hiram said, "I admit it; it was a good job as he was gone--a good job for us all. He would never have done any good here, anyway; and the best job as ever he did for himself, as I know of, was when he took himself off." There was a general chorus of assent. "What was the man's name?" Mr. Armstrong asked, carelessly. "His name was George Forester," Jacob Carey said. As they were going out from the snuggery that evening, the landlord made a sign to Mr. Armstrong that he wanted to speak to him. He accordingly lingered until the other men had left. "Oh, I thought I would just tell you, Mr. Armstrong, seeing that your daughter and you have been to the Mill, it's just as well not to talk about the poaching and George Forester before Ruth Powlett. You see, it's rather a sore subject with her. She was engaged to that George Forester, and a lot of trouble it gave her father and mother. Well, I expect she must have seen now that she had a lucky escape. Still, a girl don't like a man as she has liked being spoken against, so I thought that I would say a word to you." "Thank you; that's very friendly of you. Yes, you may be sure that I won't introduce the subject. I am very glad you told me, or I might have blundered upon it and hurt the girl's feelings. She doesn't look very strong, either. She has a nervous look about her, I think." "She used to be very different, but she had a great shock. She was the first, you know, to go into Miss Carne's room and find her dead. She was her maid before that, and she was ill for weeks after. It came on the top of an illness, too. She fell down on the hill coming home from church, and they found her lying insensible there, and she was very bad--had the doctor there every day. Then came this other affair, and I dare say this business of George Forester's helped too. Anyhow, she was very bad, and the doctor thought at one time that she wouldn't get over it." Mr. Armstrong walked home thoughtfully. "Well, father, what is your news?" Mary Armstrong said, as he entered. "I can see you have heard something more than usual."