"Mind your own business first!" said Miss Tranter, with evident vehemence. "My business is my duty, and my duty is my business,"--and here the male voice grew more rasping and raucous. "I have as much right to use this tavern as any one of the misled men who spend their hard earnings here and neglect their homes and families for the sake of drink. And as you do not close till half-past ten, it is not too late for me to enter." During this little altercation, the party round the table in the common room sat listening intently. Then Dubble, rousing himself from a pleasant ale-warm lethargy, broke the spell. "Dorned if it aint old Arbroath!" he said. "Ay, ay, 'tis old Arbroath zartin zure!" responded "Feathery" Joltram placidly. "Let 'un coom in! Let 'un coom in!" Tom o' the Gleam gave vent to a loud laugh, and throwing himself back in his chair, crossed his long legs and administered a ferocious twirl to his moustache, humming carelessly under his breath:-- "'And they called the parson to marry them, But devil a bit would he-- For they were but a pair of dandy prats As couldn't pay devil's fee!'" Helmsley's curiosity was excited. There was a marked stir of expectation among the guests of the "Trusty Man"; they all appeared to be waiting for something about to happen of exceptional interest. He glanced inquiringly at Peke, who returned the glance by one of warning. "Best sit quiet a while longer," he said. "They won't break up till closin' hour, an' m'appen there'll be a bit o' fun." "Ay, sit quiet!" said Tom o' the Gleam, catching these words, and turning towards Helmsley with a smile--"There's more than enough time for tramping. Come! Show me if you can smoke _that_!" "That" was a choice Havana cigar which he took out of the pocket of his crimson wool waistcoat. "You've smoked one before now, I'll warrant!" Helmsley met his flashing eyes without wavering. "I will not say I have not," he answered quietly, accepting and lighting the fragrant weed, "but it was long ago!" "Ay, away in the Long, long ago!" said Tom, still regarding him fixedly, but kindly--"where we have all buried such a number of beautiful things,--loves and hopes and beliefs, and dreams and fortunes!--all, all tucked away under the graveyard grass of the Long Ago!" Here Miss Tranter's voice was heard again outside, saying acidly:-- "It's clear out and lock up at half-past ten, business or no business, duty or no duty. Please remember that!" "'Ware, mates!" exclaimed Tom,--"Here comes our reverend!" The door was pushed open as he spoke, and a short, dark man in clerical costume walked in with a would-be imposing air of dignity. "Good-evening, my friends!" he said, without lifting his hat. There was no response.