his
accustomed chair facing Mrs. Ray.

"She's a rare brattlecan to chatter is our Liza. I telt her she was
ower keen to come away with all the ins and oots aboot the constables
coming to Wy'bern yesterday. She had it pat, same as if she'd seen it
in prent. That were bad news, and the laal hizzy ran bull-neck to gi'e
it oot."

"She meant no harm, Matthew."

"But why duddent she mean some good and run bull-neck to-neet to bring
ye the bettermer news?"

"Better news, Matthew? What is it?" asked Rotha eagerly, but with more
apprehension than pleasure in her tone.

"Why, that the constables hev gone," said Matthew.

"Gone!"

"Gone! Another of the same sort came to-day to leet them, and away
they've gone together."

Matthew clearly expected an outburst of delight at his intelligence.
"What dusta say to that, lass?" he added between the puffs of a pipe
that he was lighting from a candle. Then, raising his eyes and looking
up at Rotha, he said, "Why, what's this? What ails thee? Ey! What's
wrang?"

"Gone, you say?" said Rotha. "I fear that is the worst news of all,
Matthew."

But now there was the rattle of a wagon on the lonnin. A moment later
the door was thrown open, and Liza Branthwaite stood in the porch with
Reuben Thwaite behind her.

"Here's Robbie Anderson back home in Reuben's cart," said Liza,
catching her breath.

"Fetch him in," said Matthew. "Is he grown shy o' t'yance?"

"That's mair nor my share, Mattha," said Reuben.
"The lad's dylt out--fair beat, I tell thee; I picked him up frae the
brae side."

"He can scarce move hand or foot," cried Liza. "Come, quick!"

Rotha was out at the wagon in a moment.

"He's ill: he's unconscious," she said. "Where did you find him?"

"A couple of mile or so outside Carlisle," answered Reuben.

Rotha staggered, and must have fallen but for Matthew, who at the
moment came up behind her.

"I'll tell thee what it is, lass," said the old man, "thoo'rt like to
be bad thysel', and varra bad, too. Go thy ways back to the fire."

"Summat ails Robbie, no doubt about it," said Reuben.

"Of course summat _ails_ him," said Mattha, with an insinuating
emphasis on the word. "He nivver were an artistic drunkard, weren't
Bobbie."

"He's been ram'lin' and ram'lin' all the way home," continued Reuben.
"He's telt ower and ower agen of summat 'at were fifty yards north of
the bridge."

"We must take him home," said Liza, who came hurrying from the house
with a blan