tion of the miller, lay to the right of the
larger building; but no signs of ~~451~ Carriage or horses were to be
perceived, nor, indeed, anything which might indicate that the place was
inhabited.

As we drew up at the gate of a farmyard, which formed the approach both
to the mill and the house, Peter Barnett again got down, and having
carefully examined the traces of the wheel-marks, observed, "they've
been here, that I'll take my Bible oath on. The wheel-tracks go straight
into the yard. But there's some fresh marks here I can't rightly make
out. It looks as if a horse had galloped up to the gate and leaped hover
it."

"Wilford!" exclaimed I, as a sudden idea came into my head. "We have
not got to the truth of this matter yet, depend upon it. There is some
collusion between Wilford and Cumberland."

"Umph! rascals!" ejaculated Mr. Frampton. "But 'they shall both hang for
it, if it costs me every farthing I possess in the world."

"It's Mr Fleming's black mare as has been hover 'ere," said one of the
postboys, who, I afterwards learned, was a stable-helper at Barstone,
and had volunteered to drive in the sudden emergency. "I knows her marks
from any hother 'orse's. She's got a bar-shoe on the near fore-foot."

"Is there nobody here to direct us?" asked I. "Let me out. Who is this
miller, Peter?" I continued, as I sprang to the ground.

"Well, he's a queer one," was the reply. "Nobody rightly knows what to
make of him. He's no great good, I expects; but good or bad, we'll have
him out."

So saying, he opened the gate, and going to the cottage-door, which was
closed and fastened, commenced a vigorous assault upon it. For some time
his exertions appeared productive of no result, and I began to imagine
the cottage was untenanted.

"We are only wasting our time to no purpose," said I. "Let us endeavour
to trace the wheel-marks, and continue our pursuit."

"I'm certain sure there's some one in the house," rejoined old Peter,
after applying his ear to the keyhole; "I can hear 'em moving about."

"We'll soon see," replied I, looking round for some implement fitted for
my purpose. In one corner lay a heap of wood, apparently part of an old
paling. Selecting a stout post which had formed one of the uprights,
I dashed it against the fastenings of the door with a degree of force
which made lock and hinges rattle again. I was about to repeat the
attack, when a gruff voice from within the house shouted, "Hold hard
there