When Anthony caught sight of Fox at the table, he checked the question relative to the condition of Madame Malvine that rose to his lips, and came over to the settle. "Why! what a May Duke have we here!" exclaimed Fox Crymes, pointing with a laugh at Anthony's cap. "What is the meaning of this decoration?" Instead of replying, Anthony called for ale. "And wearing his mistress' gloves as well!" shouted Crymes. "They are not my mistress' gloves," answered Anthony, hastily, and in a tone of great irritation. "If you would know, Fox, whose they are, then I tell you, they belong to your sister." "How came you by them? And wherefore wear them?" "I was on the lookout for you, Fox, to return them to you for her. I do not want them. She lost them overnight." "And where did you find them? On the moor?" "They were given to me by the finder. Will that satisfy you? I will answer no more questions." Crymes saw that Anthony Cleverdon was in an irascible mood--such a mood as gave him special opportunities of vexing Anthony and amusing himself. "And now about your posie of golden cups?" he asked tauntingly. "I said I would answer no more questions." "It is not necessary. I know very well where you have been." "I have been home--at Hall," said Anthony, going over to the table from the settle, where he felt himself uneasy with all eyes fixed on him. He pulled the gloves out of his belt and laid them before him, and drew them their full length on the table, then smoothed them with his finger. He wished he had not entered the inn; his face was clouded, and his muscles twitched, Crymes enjoying his evident annoyance. He sat on the further side of the table, with his mug of beer by him. "I know very well where you have been," said he again, with his twinkling, malicious eyes fixed on Anthony. "So was I the day before yesterday; and also came off with a posie--but a better one than yours." "It is a lie!" burst from the irritated young man, starting. "Urith never----" Then he checked himself, as Fox broke into ironical laughter at the success of his essay to extract from Anthony the secret of his bunch of marigolds. Anthony saw that he had been trapped, and became more chafed and hot than before. "Do you know what she meant by giving you those flowers?" asked Crymes, and paused with his eyes on the man he was baiting. Anthony answered with a growl. "You know what they are called by the people?" said Crymes. "Drunkards. And, when you were presented with that posie, it was as much as to say that none save one to whom such a term applied would have acted as you had done last night by your offence against a dead man's grave, and by adding insult to injury by your visiting the widow and child to-day." The blood poured into Anthony's face and dazzled his eyes. A malevolent twitch of the muscles of the mouth showed how Fox enjoyed tormenting him.