"Never go to the Cat and Fiddle! A little wholesome drink drowns care, my friend; and, therefore, although I should be sorry that you indulged too much, yet, with me to look after you--" "And drink half my ale, eh? No, no, friend Furness, those days are gone." "Well, you are not in a humour for it now but another time. Mrs Rushbrook, have you a drop of small beer?" "I have none to spare," replied Jane, turning away; "you should have applied to the magistrates for beer." "Oh, just as you please," replied the pedagogue; "it certainly does ruffle people's temper when there is a verdict of wilful murder, and two hundred pounds for apprehension and conviction of the offender. Good night." Furness banged the cottage door as he went out. Rushbrook watched till he was out of hearing, and then said, "He's a scoundrel." "I think so too," replied Jane; "but never mind, we will go to bed now, thank God for his mercies, and pray for his forgiveness. Come, dearest." The next morning Mrs Rushbrook was informed by the neighbours that the schoolmaster had volunteered his evidence. Rushbrook's indignation was excited, and he vowed revenge. Whatever may have been the feelings of the community at the time of the discovery of the murder, certain it is that, after all was over, there was a strong sympathy expressed for Rushbrook and his wife, and the condolence was very general. The gamekeeper was avoided, and his friend Furness fell into great disrepute, after his voluntarily coming forward and giving evidence against old and sworn friends. The consequence was, his school fell off, and the pedagogue, whenever he could raise the means, became more intemperate than ever. One Saturday night, Rushbrook, who had resolved to pick a quarrel with Furness, went down to the ale-house. Furness was half drunk, and pot-valiant. Rushbrook taunted him so as to produce replies. One word brought on another, till Furness challenged Rushbrook to come outside and have it out. This was just what Rushbrook wished, and after half an hour Furness was carried home beaten to a mummy, and unable to leave his bed for many days. As soon as this revenge had been taken, Rushbrook, who had long made up his mind so to do, packed up and quitted the village, no one knowing whither he and Jane went; and Furness, who had lost all means of subsistence, did the same in a very few days afterwards, his place of retreat being equally unknown. CHAPTER TWENTY. IN WHICH WE AGAIN FOLLOW UP OUR HERO'S DESTINY.