a gate, to make a short cut along the hedge side of the
fields.

The evening was glorious, and after a broiling day the soft moist odours
that came from the copses dotted here and there seemed delightfully
refreshing, and so I strolled on and on till I was only a short distance
from the cottage, which was separated from me by a couple of fields,
when I turned slowly toward a corner of the enclosure I was in, where
there was a pond and a patch of moist land where weeds never noticed
towered up in abundance, and, to my surprise, I caught sight of Magglin
seated on the bank of the pond, with his feet hanging close to the
water, and apparently engaged in his evening toilet. It seemed to me
that he must have been washing his face, and that he was now wiping it
upon some great leaves which he plucked from time to time.

"No, he isn't," I said to myself the next moment. "He has been
poaching, and saw me coming. It's all a pretence to throw me off the
scent;" and I went on, my way being close by him, and there he was
rubbing away at his face with the leaves, while I glanced here and there
in search of a wire set for rabbit or hare, though I shrewdly suspected
that the wire he had been setting would be over in the copse beyond the
pond, in the expectation of getting a pheasant.

He was so quick of hearing that he could detect a footstep some distance
off, but this time he turned round sharply when I exclaimed,--

"Hallo, Magglin!"

"Eh--I--Oh, how de do, sir?"

"Better than you do," I said sharply. "What have you been doing to your
face?"

"Face? Oh, rubbing it a bit, sir, that's all. Good as washing."

"Dock leaves," I said. "What, have you stung yourself?"

"Oh yes, I forgot that, sir. Just a little bit, sir. I was coming
through the hedge down below there, and a 'ormous old nettle flew back
and hit me acrost the cheek. But it aren't nothing."

More than I should like to have, I thought to myself, as I went on, for
his face was spotted with white patches, and I knew how they must
tingle.

Ten minutes after, I was in the lane, in time to meet Polly Hopley, in
her best bonnet and with a key in her hand, going up to the cottage
door.

She smiled as she saw me, hurried to the cottage, unlocked the door, and
stood back for me to enter.

"Been out, Polly?" I said.

"Yes, sir, of course. Father took me to see the cricket match. Doctor
Browne told father we might come into the field, and it were lovely.