"Nay--nay--nay! your tongue's gane wild, lassie." "Wouldn't you, then?" said Mrs McCray. "Weel, I'll na say," said the cautious Scot. "Ye see, lassie, there's for and against; and in spite of a' ye say about crule suspeeshons, I think, as I said before, that it's our duty to all we know to haud our peace and let matters tak' their course." And matters were taking their course rapidly; for as time passed on, Brace Norton roamed the lanes like the ghost of his former self; but never once did he meet poor Isa. The wedding-day was fixed, and the dresses were ordered, and once more Merland was to be the scene of festivity and rejoicing. After the wedding Lord and Lady Maudlaine, people said, were to start for the Continent, and Sir Murray intended to go alone to Italy to reside, while the Castle was to be the home of my lord and my lady. "And you'll have fine doings there, I suppose," said one of two strange men who had come down to stay at old Chunt's inn--surveyors they said they were, perhaps connected with the working on the marsh. "Yes," said Chunt, who was stout now, and hardly ever left his chair; "the Castle will be again what it ought to be, for the new master, they say, can make the shiners fly. I see he's come down again." "Yes," said one of the men, taking his pipe from his month; "I see he's come down." "Ah, you know him, do you?" said Chunt. "Know him? Well, so far as having him pointed out to me goes, I know him. Fine thing for him, they say." "Bless you," said Chunt, "I believe there's no end to the money he'll have; but I hope it'll be a happy marriage, that's all I've got for to say." And in spite of people trying to draw Chunt out, that _was_ all he had to say, and he tightened his lips for fear another word should escape. "Wanted, eh?" said Chunt--"I'm coming," and he waddled out to speak to a new-comer. "How do, sir? Post-chaise and pair, sir. Oh, yes, sir; any time you like. You'll give your orders? Thanky, sir." Mr Chunt waddled back as his visitor departed, and one of the frequenters of the bar asked who that gentleman was. "That gent?" said Chunt. "Oh! that's Master Brace Norton." Book 2, Chapter XXVIII. PREPARATIONS. The day before the wedding, and traces everywhere at Merland village of the grand doings to come, even a score of white-smocked navvies, with their rolled-up trousers, great laced boots, and huge stolid faces, stopping to stare about, after a morning's freak, consisting of four hours' neglect of work, and the consumption of endless pots of beer and pipes of tobacco in Chunt's tap-room; but they were soon off to their work cutting the great drain through the peat, where the wind and horse mills were busy pumping out the water. "Some people's allus a' enjoying o' themselves, and having feasts," growled one peat-stained giant.