But Waller Froy had no thought for the situation of the larder. His
attention was taken up by about three-quarters of a raised pork-pie,
which he took off the dish, and, after a moment's hesitation, drew his
big trout out of the creel and dabbed it in where the pie had stood,
making the latter take the fish's place in the creel.

"Make it taste a bit," muttered the boy. "Can't stop to find a cloth,
and he will be too hungry to notice. Now for some bread."

The larder was not his place, but the boy was quite at home there, due
to surreptitious visits connected with fishing excursions and provisions
for lunch.

Taking the great brown lid off a bread-pan, he placed it on the floor
and pounced upon a loaf, which he broke in two and crammed into his
fishing-creel. He then rose up and looked round, till his eyes lighted
upon a big jug full of creamy-looking milk, which he annexed at once,
and then made for the door, passed through the kitchen, where the
thumping and musical buzz still went on, made his way back to the
dining-room, and through the window again out into the garden, and then
passed breathlessly into the dense forest once again, panting slightly
from his exertions.

"I have as good a right to the things as anybody," he muttered, to quiet
his uneasy conscience, "and if Martha asks me if I took the pie I shall
say yes, of course. I am not going to enter into explanations. Let her
think I was hungry and wanted some lunch; and if she does think it's my
doing--oh!" he ejaculated, "she will know it was when she finds the
fish; and there--if I didn't leave the great cover of the pan on the
floor! Bother!" he ejaculated. "I am master when father's out, and I
shall do as I like. Wish I could," he grumbled, as he hurried along,
not so fast as he wished, for his way was rough and tangled, and the jug
of milk was very full, besides being an awkward thing to carry steadily
where brambles continually crossed the path and the thorny strands of
the dog-rose hung down from on high as if fishing for everyone who
passed. "I should like to think about what to do," mused Waller to
himself, "but it only makes one so uncomfortable. This fellow must be
one of the King's enemies, and if I am helping the King's enemies,
shan't I be committing high treason? Oh, bother!" he cried aloud. "I
am going to give a poor fellow who is starving something to eat, and,
enemy or no, I am sure if King George saw him starving he'd do th