“He asked who the man was with us; and, when I told him, he laughed, and said he would give him a run for his money, anyway.” “Spoke like a Chater—that was!” cried Betty, with considerable pride. “Then wot ’appened?” “Master Dandy said that as it wouldn’t be safe to see you, he would make across the fields, so as to get clear of Bamberton, and walk on the way to London. Then, as I was crying, he put his arm round my shoulders—indeed, indeed, there was no shame in it, mother dear—and told me not to mind, for he would clear himself yet. And just at that moment, I heard a rustling in the hedge, and Harry jumped through.” Toby Siggs looked long at his daughter; slowly shook his head; and delivered himself of this piece of wisdom. “The good Lord, with the willin’ ’elp of yer mother, made ye fair-lookin’ an’ put bright eyes into your face; but neither the good Lord nor your mother meant as ’ow they should be a snare, or in any way deludin’. One lad is good enough for the best o’ gels. Go to bed—an’ think well on it!” Clara, still sobbing, took her way slowly upstairs. For a long time, Toby Siggs and his wife sat in whispered conversation; Toby saying but little, but probably thinking the more. The shadow of that crime in the wood seemed to have fallen even on that quiet household; Betty Siggs watched the dying fire; and her mind travelled back, through the years to the farm in Australia, on the edge of the Bush, and to the bright-faced lad that cruel Bush had swallowed up, and snatched from her. Old Toby Siggs knew the story; for, when first he had met her, she had had to account for the presence of the child; but Toby was a silent man, and the lost boy was as far back in the mists of the dead years, as in the mists of Toby’s brain. “It’s all been a muddle, Toby,” said Mrs. Siggs at last, still in the same cautious whisper. “If the old Squire could only know what has happened, I think ’e’d be a bit sorry ’e cast that boy loose, an’ took up with the younger. Lor’, Toby—wot a boy ’e was!” Toby nodded his head slowly. “Ah!” he ejaculated. “There ain’t no up-settin’ about me, or about you, ole gal; we knows ourselves for ordinary folk. But that boy moved, and talked, and ’eld ’isself like a gen’leman.” “That ’e did!” replied Betty, with a vigorous nod. “Lor’, Toby—if ’e’d ’ave bin at the ’All—we’d ’ave ’ad no talks about pore ruined gals; no policemen in the ’ouse—no ’untin’ an’ dodgin’ an’ ’idin’ like this. God knows ’ow it’s all goin’ to end, Toby.” The house had been shut, so far as its public capacity was concerned, for some time. Knowing, however, that the Inspector must presently make his appearance, and that, in any case, his bed was reserved for him, Mrs. Siggs and her husband sat on over the fire, each filled with sad thoughts, and ready, from the events of the evening, for anything which could happen.