“I shall have some fun with them,” said young Vivian; “but I’m afraid the pheasants won’t see much of me this year.” His father explained. “My son is going to visit our West Indian estates this winter. I want to be rid of them, for though they made my grandfather’s fortune before the days of the Emancipation, they’ve been rather a white elephant to our family for the last half century and more. The returns go from bad to worse. Indeed, there is more in it than meets the eye. But Hal’s no dunce at figures, and they’ll not hoodwink him out there, even if they attempt it.” CHAPTER II HANGMAN’S HUT Minnie Marshall was a quiet, brown girl, with a manner very reserved. Her parents were dead, her years, since the age of sixteen, had been spent in service. Now marriage approached for her and, at twenty, she contemplated without fear or mistrust a husband and a home. Of immediate relations the girl possessed none, save an old aunt at Moreton, who kept a little shop there. Minnie was a beauty and well experienced in the matter of suitors, but Daniel Sweetland’s romance ran smooth and she left him not long in doubt. That young Titus Sim had been a better match, most folks declared; and even Daniel, from the strong position of success, often asked Minnie why she had put him before his friend. Now, as the lad drove his sweetheart to inspect a cottage near his work on Dartmoor, they overtook Mr Sim returning to Middlecott Court. “Jump up, Titus, an’ I’ll give ’e a lift to the lodge,” said Daniel. The footman took off his hat very politely to Minnie, then he climbed into the vacant seat at the back of the trap and the party drove forward. Dan was full of the interview with Henry Vivian, and the two young men both sang the praises of their old companion. “He’s off to foreign parts in a few weeks, but he hopes to be at my wedding,” said Dan. “He’d be very sorry not to be there. But he’ve got to go pretty soon to look after Sir Reginald’s business, by all accounts.” “There’s been a lot of talk about the sugar estates in the West Indies,” explained Sim. “I overhear these things at table. Mr Henry’s going out to look into affairs. There’s an overseer--the son of Sir Reginald’s old overseer. But master doubts whether his figures can be trusted, and whether things are as bad as he says they are. So Mr Henry Vivian is going to run out without any warning. He’ll soon have the business ship-shape and find out any crooked dealings--such a clever man as he is.” “Awful strict sure enough,” said Dan, with a chuckle. “He’d heard I was a bit of a free-trader in matters of sporting, an’ he was short an’ sharp, I promise you. However, ’tis only the point of view, an’ all owing to me being a Radical in politics. He knows that I’d not do a dirty trick, else he wouldn’t have bought me a new gun for a wedding present. I’ll show him some sport on Dartymoor come presently.” Sim changed the subject. “I hope you’ll like your home upalong, Miss Marshall,” he said.