did not appear to care in the
least whether she were seen or not.

"Is yon maid ever a-coming with the victuals?" she inquired in a rather
harsh treble voice.

"Do hush, Tabby!" said the man in the most cautious of whispers. "Didst
not see him a moment since?"

"Who? Dick o' Dover?"

"Tabitha!" was the answer in a voice of absolute agony. "Do, for
mercy's sake!--Edward."

The last word was barely audible a yard away.

Mrs Hall turned round in the coolest manner, and gazed about till she
caught sight of her brother-in-law, who happened to have his back to the
corner in which they were seated, and was watching two men play at
dominoes while he waited for his cakes and ale.

"Humph!" she said, turning back again. "Thomas Hall, I marvel if there
be this even an hare in any turnip-field in Kent more 'feared of the
hounds than you.--Well, Joan, thou hast ta'en thy time o'er these
cakes."

The last remark was addressed to the waitress, who replied with an
amused smile--

"An't like you, Mistress, my name's Kate."

"Well said, so thou bringest us some dainty cates [delicacies].--Now,
Tom, help yourself, and pass that tankard."

"Tabitha, he'll hear!"

"Let him hear. I care not an almond if he hear every word I say. He'll
hear o' t'other side his ears if he give us any trouble."

Mr Benden had heard the harsh treble voice, and knew it. But he was as
comically anxious as Thomas Hall himself that he and the fair Tabitha
should not cross each other's path that evening. To run away he felt to
be an undignified proceeding, and if Tabitha had set her mind on
speaking to him, utterly useless. Accordingly, he kept his back
carefully turned to her, and professed an absorbing interest in the
dominoes.

The cakes and ale having received due attention, Mr Hall paid the bill,
and slunk out of the door, with the stealthy air and conscious face of a
man engaged in the commission of a crime. Mrs Hall, on the contrary,
took up her big basket with the open, leisurely aspect of virtue which
had nothing to fear, and marched after her husband out of the Chequers.

"Now then, Thomas Hall, whither reckon you to be a-going?" she inquired,
before she was down the steps of the inn, in a voice which must have
penetrated much further than to the ears of Mr Benden in the kitchen.
"Not that way, numskull!--to the left."

Poor Thomas, accustomed to these conjugal amenities, turned meekly round
and trotted after his Tabitha, who