a letter addressed to him at Meriton would, of course, be
forwarded. So I conclude you wish to see him personally. Are you--
pardon the question--a friend of his?"

"Not a personal friend, ma'am. I came to see him on a matter of
business."

"From Bursfield," said Miss Sally, with a glance at the card.

It was a superstition with Glasson to tell the truth about trifles.

"From Plymouth, to be exact, ma'am. I have been indulging in a--er--
brief holiday."

"Ah," thought Miss Sally to herself, "researching, no doubt!"

Aloud she said--

"Well, I am sorry, sir; but Monte Carlo's the address, and that's all I
can do for you except to offer you some refreshment, and--yes, let me
see--you are returning to-night?"

"As speedily as possible, ma'am."

"Sunday trains are awkward. There is one at Fair Anchor at 4.35, and
after that no other until the 7.12, which picks up the evening mail at
Taunton. You are on foot, I understand, and will certainly not catch
the first unless you let my man drive you over."

Doctor Glasson was evidently anxious to get away at the earliest moment.
He protested, with many thanks, that he was trespassing on her kindness.

"Not a bit," said Miss Sally; "and you shall be as comfortable as we can
make you in the barouche. Mr. Chichester, would you mind stepping out
and ringing them up at the stables, while Butts is bringing the brandy?"

The Parson guessed that she was sending him with a purpose; and he was
right, for he had scarcely left the room when, on an excuse, she
followed him.

"Tossell and the children are about due. This man must not see them, of
course. As you leave the stables you go up on the Inistow road and head
'em off--keep 'em out of sight until the barouche is past the
cross-roads and on the way to Fair Anchor."

He nodded, and having left his order with the coachman, climbed by a
footpath to a rise of the moor whence he commanded a view of the
cross-roads on his right, and on his left of the road running
northward like a pale ribbon across the brown heather. Neither vehicle
nor horseman was in sight. Nor, though he waited more than half an
hour, did any appear coming from the direction of Inistow.

At the end of that time, however, he saw the barouche roll past the
cross-roads towards Fair Anchor. The coast was clear. So, wondering a
little at the farmer's delay, he wended his way back to Culvercoombe.
To his amazement, in the hall he ran against Butts c