"Peter," said he solemnly, "I am very much afraid that I take a greater interest in Diana of Farbis than is advisable. I am not in love with her, because a man of thirty is scarcely fool enough to fall in love with a woman he has only seen twice. But I take an interest in her, Peter, because I pity her wasted life. And if you think pity is akin to love, Peter, you think wrongly. This is a matter of head and heart. We had intended to go away to-morrow, Peter; but I have decided to stay and find out what all this is about. I don't like mysterious gipsies hatching plots against me, and prophesying me into marriage. You and I, Peter, will turn detectives, and ferret out the meaning of these things. Therefore, Peter, as a first step we will go into the village and listen to public opinion concerning Dr. Merle and his daughter. The audience is at an end, you rascal, so sit down." Peter dropped like a shot and yawned. He did not understand a word of this long speech. How could he? There was not a word about bones in it from beginning to end. When Dan put on his cap and picked up his stick, the actions were more intelligible to Peter than the previous words, and he whirled frantically before Dan in token of his delight at the prospect of a walk. Simon only tossed his head and looked. He had been down to the seashore that morning, and took no interest in anything save grass. Having thus ascertained the feelings of his four-footed friends, Dan cast a farewell glance around to see that everything was in good order, and strode off, followed by the barking terrier. All that afternoon Dan pottered about the village. He talked to stray labourers of crops and weather, artfully leading the conversation round to the gentry question; he gossiped with voluble women, on the plea of seeking a laundress for his linen, and learned indirectly their opinion of the doctor. It did not appear to be a very high one. "Th' ould doctor bean't nowt but a sleepy-head," they said contemptuously. "'A ain't vit vur nowt. 'A gits oop, 'a lies down--aw ain't niver no good. That 'a bean't!" From which speeches Dan gathered that Dr. Merle was not highly prized as a physician in Farbis. He stayed in his dismal house and soddened himself with laudanum. His patients resented the little interest he took in them, and proclaimed their views boisterously in broad rural dialect. It took all Dan's time to fathom the meaning of some of their words. In process of time he drifted into the Red Deer, more to quench his thirst than for any other reason, but found an unexpected mine of information in the landlord. That worthy brought him a tankard of ale with a jolly smile, and when Dan mentioned casually that he had been to see the doctor, burst out with unlimited information. "'A has nowt, zur," said the host; "'a stuck-up un, 'a be." "Is he a good doctor?"