Bess gave me a contemptuous smile. "Do you happen to know that he has stolen a horse, and sold it afterwards to the man from whom he had stolen it? Did you ever hear of his being entertained as an honoured guest at the house of a magistrate, who had condemned him to the stocks a day or two before? Have you heard of his passing for a clergyman, London merchant, French traveller, and a dozen other characters, among people who knew him well, or thought they did? And if he can take in every dull-witted squire in the Isle just for mirth and play, what do you suppose he can't do, when he is to gain a fortune by doing it?" On reflection, I admitted to myself that contempt for Boswell might be foolish, and passed at once to suspicion. What if this girl had been employed to frighten me away? Her I did not suspect, but might she not have been allowed to hear this and that, in the hope that she would inform me, and so I might be driven out of the Isle? A fine fellow I should be to run for my life, because a wench cried Bugaboo! "Well, Bess, I am infinitely obliged to you," I said; "but I am not likely to take to flight. If you are good enough to warn me of any scheme you may hear of, I shall be forearmed." "Do you suppose my father imparts his plans to me, or any one? I may guess his design by some direction he gives; I may divine a purpose by watching him closely. He doesn't talk of doing a thing, he does it." It was curious to see the sort of pride she had in the man whose plans she was endeavouring to thwart, pride mingled with fear. We sat a little while in silence. Then Bess got up to go. "You will not heed my warning? Oh, you are bewitched, or you would not lose house and land, scorn a fair damsel, who would be your loving, faithful wife, break your father's heart, risk your life, all for--an outlandish woman!" "I believe you honest, Bess," I rejoined; "but is all this of your own motion?" "And who should prompt me?" she asked. "Nay, that I cannot guess." "Nor ever will." And away she went without another word. A day or two later, my father returned, looking worn and aged, so that my heart ached to see the change. He, on his part, was deeply concerned to find me weak and ailing, and sent Luke to Doncaster with a letter to a physician there, forbidding him to return until he could bring the doctor. When he heard that my wounds had been got in defending the Goels, he refrained from speech, but his looks were of sorrow and anger both.