"Because it was clear enough that you and the Ramleys understood each other," answered Clinch, boldly. "Pooh--pooh, nonsense!" said Squire Jollivet. "You must not talk such stuff here, Mr. Clinch. But, however that may be, the prisoner is discharged; and now, as I think we have no more business before us, we may all go home; for it's nearly five o'clock, and I, for one, want my dinner." "Ay, it is nearly five o'clock," said young Radford, who had been standing with his eyes cast down and his brow knit; "and you do not know what you have all done, keeping me here in this way." He added an oath, and then flung out of the room, passing through the crowd of officers and others, in his way towards the door, without waiting for his father, who had risen with the rest of the magistrates, and was preparing to depart. Sir Robert Croyland and Mr. Radford descended the stairs of the inn together; and at the bottom, Mr. Radford shook the baronet heartily by the hand, saying, loud enough to be heard by everybody. "That was admirably well done, Sir Robert! Many thanks--many thanks." "None to me, my dear sir," answered Sir Robert Croyland. "It was but simple justice;" and he turned away to mount his horse. "Very pretty justice, indeed!" said Mowle, in a low voice, to the sergeant of dragoons; "but I can't help fancying there's something more under this than meets the eye. Mr. Radford isn't a gentleman who usually laughs at these matters so lightly. But if he thinks to cheat me, perhaps he may find himself mistaken." In the meantime the baronet hastened homewards, putting his horse into a quick pace, and taking the nearest roads through the woods, which were then somewhat thickly scattered over that part of Kent. He had no servant with him; and when at about two miles from his own house, he passed through a wild and desolate part of the country, near what is now called Chequer Tree, he looked on before and around him on every side, somewhat anxiously, as if he did not much admire the aspect of the place. He pushed on, however, entered the wood, and rode rapidly down into a deep dell, which may still be seen in that neighbourhood, though its wild and gloomy character is now almost altogether lost. At that time, tall trees grew up round it on either hand, leaving, in the hollow, a little patch of about half an acre, filled with long grass and some stunted willows, while the head of a stream bubbling up in their shade, poured on its clear waters through a fringe of sedges and rushes towards some larger river.