s," said Feltram cynically.

"Well, I'm accountable for dealing with that wicked old dicer I
_thought_ I saw--isn't that it? But I must pay old Trebeck all the same,
since the money was his. Can you manage a meeting?"

"Look down here. Old Trebeck has just landed; he will sleep to-night at
the George and Dragon, to meet his cattle in the morning at Golden
Friars fair. You can speak to him yourself."

So saying Feltram glided away, leaving Sir Bale the task of opening the
matter to the wealthy farmer of Cloostedd Fells.

A broad night of steps leads down from the courtyard to the level of the
jetty at the lake: and Sir Bale descended, and accosted the venerable
farmer, who was bluff, honest, and as frank as a man can be who speaks a
_patois_ which hardly a living man but himself can understand.

Sir Bale asked him to come to the Hall and take luncheon; but Trebeck
was in haste. Cattle had arrived which he wanted to look at, and a pony
awaited him on the road, hard by, to Golden Friars; and the old fellow
must mount and away.

Then Sir Bale, laying his hand upon his arm in a manner that was at once
lofty and affectionate, told in his ears the subject on which he wished
to be understood.

The old farmer looked hard at him, and shook his head and laughed in a
way that would have been insupportable in a house, and told him, "I hev
narra bond o' thoine, mon."

"I know how that is; so does Philip Feltram."

"Well?"

"Well, I must replace the money."

The old man laughed again, and in his outlandish dialect told him to
wait till he asked him. Sir Bale pressed it, but the old fellow put it
off with outlandish banter; and as the Baronet grew testy, the farmer
only waxed more and more hilarious, and at last, mounting his shaggy
pony, rode off, still laughing, at a canter to Golden Friars; and when
he reached Golden Friars, and got into the hall of the George and
Dragon, he asked Richard Turnbull with a chuckle if he ever knew a man
refuse an offer of money, or a man want to pay who did not owe; and
inquired whether the Squire down at Mardykes Hall mightn't be a bit
"wrang in t' garrets." All this, however, other people said, was
intended merely to conceal the fact that he really had, through sheer
loyalty, lent the money, or rather bestowed it, thinking the old family
in jeopardy, and meaning a gift, was determined to hear no more about
it. I can't say; I only know people held, some by one interpretation,
some by ano