was far grander,' said Bessie. 'Then Lucy had
her first satin farthingale, and three gallants, besides my brother,
wanted to dance with her.'

Blushing deeply, Lucy tried to hush the little ones, much perplexed by
the questions, and confused by the answers. Could he be contrasting the
life where a vicious cow had been the most alarming object, a greensward
dance with a step-brother the greatest gaiety, dye of the elder juice
the deepest stain, with the temptations and perils that had beset one
equally young? Resting his head on his hand, his elbow on his knee,
he seemed to be musing in a reverie that he could hardly brook, as his
young brow was knitted by care and despondency.

Suddenly, the sounds in the village rose from the quiet sleepy summer
hum into a fierce yell of derisive vituperation, causing Philip at once
to leap up, and run across the court to the entrance-gate, while Lucy
called after him some vain sisterly warning against mingling in a fray.

It seemed as if his interposition had a good effect, for the uproar
lulled almost as soon as he had hurried to the scene of action; and
presently he reappeared, eager and breathless. 'I told them to bring him
up here,' he said; 'they would have flogged him at the cart's-tail, the
rogues, just because my father is out of the way. I could not make out
his jargon, but you can, brother; and make that rascal Spinks let him
go.'

'What should I have to do with it?' said Berenger, shrinking from
the sudden exposure of his scarred face and maimed speech. 'I am no
magistrate.'

'But you can understand him; he is French, the poor rogue something abut
a letter, and wanting to ask his way. Ah! I thought that would touch
you, and it will cost you little pains, and slouching it over his face,
rose, and, leaning upon Annora's shoulder, stepped forward, just as the
big burly blacksmith-constable and small shriveled cobbler advanced,
dragging along, by a cord round the wrists, a slight figure with a red
woolen sailor's shirt, ragged black hosen, bare head, and almost bare
feet.

Doffing their caps, the men began an awkward salutation to the young
Lord on his recovery, but he only touched his beaver in return, and
demanded, 'How now! what have you bound him for?'

'You see, my Lord,' began the constable, 'there have been a sort of
vagrants of late, and I'll be bound' twas no four-legged fox as took
Gaffer Shepherd's lamb.'

The peroration was broken off, for with a start as