The sound of my voice, little though it was, appeared to startle the creature. It turned, paused as if regarding us, seemed to be coming our way, and vanished again into the glooms from which it had emerged. I had had a dreadful moment; and so it was with a sense of outrage that I heard Harry laugh out as he sprang to his feet. “O!” he cried, skipping and sniggering before me; “to see it come so pat, and hear his tone change. Wasn’t it beautiful? And him not to know a bogey from a badger! O, Master Dicky, really!” “A badger!” I echoed awfully. Then recovered myself and added with a rather agitated laugh; “Well, don’t pretend you weren’t startled yourself at first.” “I?” he exclaimed. “Why, you old donkey, I brought you up here on purpose, on the chance of seeing it.” “Bosh!” I snapped. “Very well,” he said. “I’ll show you its tracks in the mud to-morrow, if you don’t believe me. I guessed it was somewhere in the hill, and now I know.” “Did you?” I said resentfully. “Then I’d rather you played the fool with me by day.” “Played!” said he; “what have I played? ’Twas you began with your ghosts and things. Besides, any fool knows that badgers only _walk_ at night.” He sniggered again; then, seeing that I was hurt, took my arm in his, and patted me down. “It’s really rather a start, though,” said he--“I mean the thing being here at all; because they live in woods, you know. But I’ll tell you what I make of it; that it was driven down by those burnings” (it had been a very hot summer, with two fires, destroying some acres, up in the Court woods) “to get near the water. Anyhow, I spotted its tracks in the soft ground here some days ago, and made up my mind to run it to earth. We’ll come up to-morrow and have a look by daylight.” We did as he proposed, and found, amongst the bramble and other vegetable and miscellaneous litter which choked the neighbourhood of the great tumbled mass of masonry, indubitable signs of a passage leading to the creature’s earth. “Don’t say anything about it,” said Harry, desisting, excited, from his examination; “and we’ll just have a try to dig it out some day. Wonder if it could tell us anything about the earthquake?” He was staring at me, and I at him. “Harry,” I whispered, thrilling all through; “supposing there’s a way down after all!” “Don’t _you_--believe it, sir,” said Rampick’s breathless voice. The man had, after his customary fashion, come softly upon us from some hidden coign of espial. His hands were slouched in his pockets, and he mumbled a little black clay pipe, shaped like a death’s head, between his teeth. “I wouldn’t think--_if_ I were you,” he went on, “_fur_ to pry into the Lord’s secrets. Let the grave keep its own--_per_vided I may be so bold.” “I wish _you_ wouldn’t pry into our secrets, Mr. Rampick,” said Harry, loftily. “It’s got to be rather a nuisance this, you know.”