In view of this magnanimous treatment it was distinctly ungracious of Diogenes to repeat his truant performance within a fortnight of his previous escapade; yet repeat it he did, as soon as by his docile behaviour he had allayed Mr Musgrave's doubts of him so far as to lead to a decrease of vigilance, and a greater laxity in the matter of open doors. Diogenes broke bounds again at about the same hour on a balmy evening in June; and Mr Musgrave hastened as before to the vicarage with a second note to be entrusted to the handy sexton. But here a check awaited him. Robert, on being appealed to by the vicar, stoutly refused to go to the Hall on any business after dusk. "Not if you was to offer me a hund'ed pounds, sir," he affirmed earnestly. "I wouldn' go up thicky avenue in the dimpsy again, not for a thousand--no, I wouldn'. Leave it bide till the mornin' an' I'll take it." Mr Errol returned to John Musgrave with the tale of his non-success. "I daresay I could find someone else to take it, John," he said, with a whimsical smile. "But my reputation is likely to suffer, unless you sanction the note being delivered at the door, instead of into Miss Annersley's own hand. That stipulation is highly compromising." Mr Musgrave flushed. "I am afraid I didn't think of that," he said, and took the note from the vicar and tore it in half. "I am glad you mentioned it. It is not fair, either, to Miss Annersley." "What is to be done now?" the vicar said. "I will," returned Mr Musgrave quietly, "go to the Hall myself, and bring Diogenes back." "Well, I rather wonder you didn't do that before." Mr Musgrave wondered also. The idea had not, as a matter of fact, presented itself to him until the delicacy of entrusting the mission to a third person had been pointed out. Now that it had presented itself it occurred to him not only as the proper course to pursue, but the more agreeable. He therefore scattered the fragments of his note to the winds of heaven, and set forth on his walk to the Hall. It was dusk when he started; when he arrived at the gates and passed through, the dusk appeared to deepen perceptibly, and as he pursued his way, as Robert had done, along the avenue beneath the green archway of interlacing boughs, it seemed to him that night descended abruptly and dispersed the last lingering gleams of departing day.