Drawing a long breath, as if to get a reserve of force, the girl stepped quickly along the path leading round to the front, passing as soon as she could on to the closely-cut lawn, and over it to the gate. She had nearly reached it, bag in one hand and umbrella in the other, when she turned quickly round to see that she was not observed by any one in the curate's study; and as she did so she plumped up against something hard and yet soft. "Oh!" she involuntarily ejaculated, and she started back, as that which she had thumped against took a step forward, and she found that she was face to face with Joe Chegg. "Where are you going?" he said sourly. Dally was too much startled for a moment to speak. Then, recovering herself, she said shortly: "What's that to you?" "Heverything," replied Joe, in a low growl. "Parson said I was to look out about the place; and I'm a-looking. Where are you going?" Dally drew her breath with a hiss. It was maddening to be stopped at a time like this, when every minute was of importance; and the mail train was always punctual at King's Hampton at half-past one. "D'yer hear?" said Joe. "Well, if you won't answer me, come on to parson, and tell him." "No, no, Joe Chegg; don't stop me, please," she said softly. "Gran'fa's ill, and I'm going to take him something." "At quarter arter ten, eh? No, you arn't. Old Moredock went to bed at half-past eight, for I run down and looked in at his windy 'fore he drawed the blind. Yes, I run down and see." "What's that got to do with it?" cried Dally. "How dare you stop me?" "Parson said I was to look out." "Master didn't tell you to stop me, you great stupid. Let me go by." "Nay, I shan't," said Joe. "You're off on larks, and he arn't here now." "Who isn't here?" cried Dally. "You know. He's gone to London, where he'd better stop." Daily's wrath hissed again, and she was about to say something angrily, but she dreaded a scene, and tried the other tack. "Now, don't be foolish, there's a dear, good man," she said softly. "I just want to go a little way." "Wi' an umbrella and a bag, eh?" said Joe. "Parson Salis don't know you're off out, I know." "What nonsense, Joe!" "Don't you Joe me, ma'am; my name's Mr Chegg, and you wouldn't whisper and carny and be civil if you weren't up to some games." "Oh, what a foolish man you are, Joe Chegg!" "Oh, I am, arn't I?" said Joe. "Always going up to the Hall of a night, eh? Gets out o' my bedroom windy, and steals off to meet squires in vestry rooms, I do, don't I?" "Joe Chegg!" "And carries on as no decent female would wi' my missus's young man." "Joe Chegg! Oh, please let me go by," whispered Dally. "I want to go somewhere particular." "Then want'll be your master, for you're not going without parson says you are to. Come on and ask him." Joe caught her by the wrist, but she wrested it away, and nearly got through the gate, but he was too quick for her.