that his eyes were
uncomfortably filling. With a boy's dislike of showing emotion, he
mastered his feelings and said, "Thank you, Uncle Jim."

"That is all," said the Squire, who too saw and comprehended what he saw,
"go to bed, you breaker of the law--"

"And I," said Ann, "a wicked partner. Come, John."

They left the master of the house with the rector. Rivers looked at the
clock, "I think I must go. I do not stand late hours. If I let the day
capture the night, the day after is apt to find me dull."

"Well, stand it this once, Mark. I hate councils of war or peace without
the pipe, and now, imagine it, my dear wife wanted me to smoke, and that
was all along of that terrible spittoon and the long-expected cousin of
whom I have heard from time to time. _Les absens n'out pas toujours
tort_. Now smoke and don't watch the clock. I said this abominable
business was to be closed out--"

"And is it not?" asked Rivers.

"No. I do not talk about Peter Lamb to my wife, because she thinks my
helping him so often has done the man more harm than good. It was not
Grey alone who was responsible. He told Mrs. Penhallow that Peter had
sent him to Josiah's shop. He told Grey too that Josiah must be a runaway
slave and that any one would know him by his having lost two fingers.
That at once set Grey on this mischievous track."

"I am only too sure that you are right," returned Rivers. "Peter tried a
very futile blackmailing trick on Josiah. He wanted to get whisky, and
told the poor negro that he must get it for him or he would let his
master know where he was. Of course, the scamp knew what we all knew and
no more, but it alarmed Josiah, who came to me at once. He was like a
scared child. I told him to go home and that Peter had lied. He went away
looking as if the old savagery in his blood might become practically
active."

"I don't wonder," said Penhallow. "Did it end there?"

"No, I saw Peter next day, and he of course lied to me very cleverly,
said it was only a joke on Josiah, and so on. I think, sir, and you will
I hope excuse me--I do think that the man were better let alone. Every
time you help him, he gets worse. When he was arrested and suspected of
burning Robert's hayrick, you pleaded with the old farmer and got the man
off. He boasted of it the next time he got drunk."

"I know--I know." The Squire had paid Robert's loss, and aware of his own
folly was of no mind to confess to any one. "I have no wish or will