poacher
wanting to clear his conscience."

"It's Pike," said Hillary.

"Pike! What can he want with me? Is he no better?"

"He'll never be better in this world; and to speak the truth, I think
it's time he left it. He'll be happier, poor fellow, let's hope, in
another than he has been in this. Has it ever struck you, Lord Hartledon,
that there was something strange about Pike, and his manner of coming
here?"

"Very strange indeed."

"Well, Pike is not Pike, but another man--which I suppose you will say is
Irish. But that he is so ill, and it would not be worth while for the law
to take him, he might be in mortal fear of your seeing him, lest you
betrayed him. He wanted you not to be informed until the last hour. I
told him there was no fear."

"I would not betray any living man, whatever his crime, for the whole
world," returned Lord Hartledon; his voice so earnest as to amount to
pain. And the surgeon looked at him; but there rose up in his remembrance
how _he_ had been avoiding betrayal for years. "Who is he?"

"Willy Gum."

Lord Hartledon turned his head sharply under cover of the surgeon's
umbrella, for they were walking along together. A thought crossed him
that the words might be a jest.

"Yes, Pike is Willy Gum," continued Mr. Hillary. "And there you have the
explanation of the poor mother's nervous terrors. I do pity her. The
clerk has taken it more philosophically, and seemed only to care lest the
fact should become known. Ah, poor thing! what a life hers has been! Her
fears of the wild neighbour, her basins for cats, are all explained now.
She dreaded lest Calne should suspect that she occasionally stole into
the shed under cover of the night with the basins containing food for its
inmate. There the man has lived--if you can call such an existence
living; Willy Gum, concealed by his borrowed black hair and whiskers. But
that he was only a boy when he went away, Calne would have recognized him
in spite of them."

"And he is not a poacher and a snarer, and I don't know what all, leading
a lawless life, and thieving for his living?" exclaimed Lord Hartledon,
the first question that rose to the surface, amidst the many that were
struggling in his mind.

"I don't believe the man has touched the worth of a pin belonging to
any one since he came here, even on your preserves. People took up the
notion from his wild appearance, and because he had no ostensible means
of living. It would not have done to