"Here's a man 'ull run 'em anywhere you like in his ass-cart for you, sir, an' welcome. As I was sayin', sir, the polis has nothin' to do but pick up news, and there's an objection to doin' away wid their ockypation--that's all. They're dacent men, the polis." "I expected a carriage or something to meet me." Mat Connor looked up and down the platform, where the little woman stood alone, enjoying the excitement of the train's arrival. Then he went to the door and looked out. As he came back he again carefully scanned the platform, as though he might have overlooked such a thing as a carriage. "Not a sight of one I see at all, at all, sir. Where might you be for, if I may make so bould as to ask?" "I'm going to Mr. Graydon's, of Carrickmoyle. I daresay he'll be here presently, as he knows the hour the train is due." "Och, Mr. Graydon'll be here, never fear. He'll be rowlin' round in his little car in less thin no time. The gentleman's for Mr. Graydon's, Pat. Just get his things on the ass-cart an' run them around before another train's due." "It is not far, then?" "If you turned to the right when you wint out, an' kep' your eyes shut, only feelin' your way by the wall, you'd be turnin' in at the gate of Carrickmoyle in, maybe, half an hour. But sure, here's Mr. Graydon himself comin' to look for you. I suspected he wouldn't be long." The young gentleman turned round and saw coming towards him along the platform a lively, fresh-coloured man, of fifty or thereabouts. In spite of his old Norfolk jacket and knickerbockers of grey homespun, yellowed and browned with hard wear, there was no mistaking Mr. Graydon for anything but a gentleman. His face beamed cordiality on the new arrival, and his blue eyes shone with pleasure. "You are welcome, my dear Sir Anthony, very heartily welcome to Carrickmoyle! Have you been waiting? I'm so sorry. I made certain to be in time. Indeed, I had an errand to do a little further, but, of course, I turned in as soon as I saw the train had arrived." [Illustration: "You are welcome, my dear Sir Anthony."] "The train was over-punctual, sir, and I have been very well entertained while I waited." "I daresay, I daresay. There are worse comrades than Mat. Many a pleasant day's shooting I had with Mat for companion. Eh, Mat, you don't forget the night in the Moyle river when our legs froze waiting for wild duck, and we thought we'd have to stay there till the hot weather set us free." Mat grinned delightedly for response. "The worst of Mat is he's a born poacher. Doesn't respect Inverbarry's preserves or anybody else's, and isn't to be frightened, though I tell him Inverbarry'll lock him up one of these days." "Not wid your honour on the bench. But 'tisn't me that poaches. 'Tis the bit of a dog. You couldn't insinse respect for the law into that little baste's head wance he's put up a hare or a partridge."