he news just now. 'They had Pike the poacher up,' says she.
'He was up before the jury, and had to confess to it.' 'Confess to what,'
said I. 'Why, that he was about in the woods when my lord met his end,'
said she; 'and it's to know how my lord did meet it, and whether the
poacher mightn't have dealt that blow on his temple and robbed him after
it.' Gum--"

"There's no suspicion of foul play, is there?" interrupted the clerk, in
strangely subdued tones.

"Not that I know of, except in Lydia's temper," answered Mrs. Gum. "But
I don't like to hear he was up there at all."

"Lydia Jones is a foul-tongued woman, capable of swearing away any man's
life. Is Pike in custody?"

"Not yet. They've let him off for the present. Oh, Gum, often and often
do I wish my days were ended!"

"Often and often do I wish I'd a quiet house to come to, and not be
bothered with dreams," was the scornful retort. "Suppose you toast the
muffins."

She gave a sigh or two, put her cap straight, smoothed her ragged hair,
and meekly rose to obey. The clerk was carefully folding up the outer
coat, for it was one he wore only on high-days, when he felt something in
the pocket--a small parcel.

"I'd almost forgotten this," he exclaimed, taking it out. "Thanks to you,
Nance! What with your dreams and other worryings I can't think of my
proper business."

"What is it?" she asked.

"A deed Dr. Ashton's lawyer got me to bring and save his clerk a
journey--if you must know. I'll take it over at once, while the tea's
brewing."

As Jabez Gum passed through his own gate he looked towards Mr. Pike's
dwelling; it was only natural he should do so after the recent
conversation; and he saw that worthy gentleman come stealing across the
waste ground, with his usual cautious step. Although not given to
exchanging courtesies with his neighbour, the clerk walked briskly
towards him now, and waited at the hurdles which divided the waste ground
from the road.

"I hear you were prowling about the mill when Lord Hartledon met with his
accident," began the clerk, in low, condemning tones.

"And what if I was," asked Pike, leaning his arms on the hurdles and
facing the clerk. "Near the mill I wasn't; about the woods and river I
was; and I saw him pass down in the sculling boat with his disabled arm.
What of it, I ask?"

Pike's tone, though short, was civil enough. The forced appearance before
the coroner and public had disturbed his equanimity in no slight de