aid old Tummus, carefully removing the
scythe, and placing it in safety by hooking the blade high up in a dense
yew-tree. "No well here, but I thought it best any way to stop you."

"To stop me? Why?" cried Grange.

"'Cause some one as ought to be kicked out o' the place left his scythe
lying across the grass ready for you to chop your shins. It's all right
now."

They walked on in silence till they reached a gate opening upon the
green meadow, where John Grange stopped short with his hand resting upon
the upper bar.

"What is it, my lad?" said old Tummus.

"I was only thinking of how helpless I am. I thank you, Tummus," he
said simply, as he turned and held out his hand. "I might have cut
myself terribly."

"Aye, you might, my lad. There, go on to your dinner, and tell the
missus I shall be there directly."

John Grange wrung the old man's hand, and went on in perfect ignorance
of the trap that had been laid, with the idea that if he were injured
and had to go to a hospital once again, it was not likely that he would
return to the gardens; while old Tummus went off to the tool-shed, a
quiet, retired nook, suitable for a good think, to cogitate as to what
he should do under the circumstances.

His first thought was to go straight to Mrs Mostyn, and tell her what
he had seen, and also about the orchids, but he argued directly that his
mistress would not believe him.

"For I didn't see him upset the orchards, and as to this here business,"
he thought, "nobody wouldn't believe as a human being would go and do
such a thing. Dunno as I would mysen if I hadn't seen it, and I arn't
quite sure now as he meant to do it, though it looks as much like it as
ever it could. He's got his knife into poor John Grange, somehow, and I
don't see why, for the poor fellow arn't likely to do much harm to
anybody now."

Then he considered for a bit as to whether he should tell John Grange
what he had seen; but he concluded that he would not, for it would only
make the poor fellow miserable if he believed him.

Old Tummus was still considering as to the best course when the two
o'clock bell rang, and he jumped up to go back to his work.

"Never mind," he thought, with a grin, "I dessay there'll be a few cold
taters left, and I must have them with my tea."

That same evening, after old Tummus had finished a meal which more than
made up for his abstemiously plain dinner, he made up his mind to tell
John Grange out in the