'I hope he's a respectable person.' 'Oh, I think the chap's honest enough,' answered the groom, with a patronising air; 'but he's a queer customer--a reg'lar Peter the wild boy, he is.' Ida, who had never heard of this gentleman, was not particularly enlightened by the comparison. She went lightly and quickly up the steep ascent, and along a furzy ridge which rose imperceptibly skywards, until she came to the fir plantation which sheltered the gamekeeper's cottage. The lattice stood wide open, and a man was leaning with folded arms on the sill as she came in sight, but in a flash the man had gone, and the lattice was closed. She ran on, nothing deterred by this discourtesy, and knocked at the door with the handle of her whip. 'Is my brother, Sir Vernon Palliser, here?' she asked. 'No,' a gruff voice answered from within. 'Please open the door, 'I want to ask your advice. The boy has wandered off on a fishing expedition. Have you seen anything of him this morning?' 'No.' 'Are you sure?' 'Do you think I should tell you a lie?' growled the sulky voice from within. 'What a surly brute!' thought Ida. 'How can Vernon like to make a companion of such a man?' She lingered, only half convinced, and nervously repeated her story--how Sir Vernon had gone out with Mr. Wendover that morning before seven, and how she had been looking for them, and was afraid they would be caught in the storm which was evidently coming. 'You'd better go home before you're half drowned yourself,' growled the surly voice. 'I'll look for the boy and send him home to you, if he's above ground.' 'Will you! will you really look for him?' faltered Ida, in a rapture of gratitude. 'You know his ways, and he is so fond of you. Pray find him, and bring him home. You shall be liberally rewarded. We shall be deeply grateful,' she added hastily, fearing she had offended by this suggestion of sordid recompense. 'I'll do my best,' grumbled the woman-hater, 'when you've cleared off. I shan't stir till you're gone.' 'I am going this instant, my horse is at the bottom of the Hanger. God bless you for your goodness to my brother.' 'God bless you,' replied the voice in a deeper and less strident tone. Big drops were falling slowly and far apart from the lowering sky as Ida went down the hill, a steep and even dangerous descent for feet less accustomed to that kind of ground. 'You'd better ride home as fast as you can, ma'am,' said Robert, as he mounted Cleopatra's light burden. 'The mare's had a good blow, and you can canter her all the way back.' 'I don't care about the storm for myself. Sir Vernon must be out in it.' A low muttering peal of thunder rolled slowly along the valley as she settled herself in her saddle. 'Sir Vernon won't hurt, ma'am. Besides, who knows if he ain't at home by this time?'