mained a certain doubtful feeling in Lord
Hartledon's mind regarding the interview; for some subtle discernment had
whispered to him that both Gum and his wife could have given him the
description of Gordon, and would not do so.

He turned slowly towards home, thinking of this. As he passed the waste
ground and Pike's shed, he cast his eyes towards it; a curl of smoke
was ascending from the extemporized chimney, still discernible in the
twilight. It occurred to Lord Hartledon that this man, who had the
character of being so lawless, had been rather suspiciously intimate with
the man Gorton. Not that the intimacy in itself was suspicious; birds
of a feather flocked together; but the most simple and natural thing
connected with Gorton would have borne suspicion to Hartledon's mind now.

He had barely passed the gate when some shouting arose in the road behind
him. A man, driving a cart recklessly, had almost come in contact with
another cart, and some hard language ensued. Lord Hartledon turned his
head quickly, and just caught Mr. Pike's head, thrust a little over the
top of the gate, watching him. Pike must have crouched down when Lord
Hartledon passed. He went back at once; and Pike put a bold face on the
matter, and stood up.

"So you occupy your palace still, Pike?"

"Such as it is. Yes."

"I half-expected to find that Mr. Marris had turned you from it,"
continued Lord Hartledon, alluding to his steward.

"He wouldn't do it, I expect, without your lordship's orders; and I don't
fancy you'll give 'em," was the free answer.

"I think my brother would have given them, had he lived."

"But he didn't live," rejoined Pike. "He wasn't let live."

"What do you mean?" asked Lord Hartledon, mystified by the words.

Pike ignored the question. "'Twas nearly a smash," he said, looking at
the two carts now proceeding on their different ways. "That cart of
Floyd's is always in hot water; the man drinks; Floyd turned him off
once."

The miller's cart was jogging up the road towards home, under convoy of
the offending driver; the boy, David Ripper, sitting inside on some empty
sacks, and looking over the board behind: looking very hard indeed, as it
seemed, in their direction. Mr. Pike appropriated the gaze.

"Yes, you may stare, young Rip!" he apostrophized, as if the boy could
hear him; "but you won't stare yourself out of my hands. You're the
biggest liar in Calne, but you don't mislead me."

"Pike, when you made ac