short for a moment or two, and then gasped,
seemed as if he would choke, and ended by snatching his coat away from
Pratt's grasp.

"Darley, Sanders, come back--go back," he said at last. "These people
shall hear from me."

The rat-trap man stood looking evilly at the young keeper, and the
Scotch gardener took a pinch of snuff. Then they slowly followed their
master, and the coast was clear.

"You're sure, I suppose, about this tongue of land?" said Pratt. "By
Jove! what a rage, though, the old boy was in."

"Sure? yes--oh yes," said Trevor. "Wasn't it here that they sunk the
shaft for the copper mine, Humphrey?"

"Yes, sir, twenty yards farther on, under that clump. It's 'most filled
up, though, now."

"To be sure, I recollect the spot well enough now. But this is a bad
job, Franky," he continued, in an undertone. "I wanted to be on the
best of terms with my neighbours."

"'Specially that neighbour," said Pratt, meaningly.

"With all my neighbours," said Trevor.

"You've made a nice beginning, then," said Pratt.

"If there is any fresh upset, Humphrey, let me know; but don't pick a
quarrel," said Trevor. "I shall not go any farther to-day."

"Very well, sir," said the keeper; and then in an undertone, as he
stooped and patted the dog, "Kick you, would he, Juno, lass? Never
mind, then, he shall have it back some day."

The dog whined and leaped up at him, as he rose again, and looked after
his master.

"Well, he's grown into a fine, bold-speaking gentleman," he said to
himself; "but I should have liked it better if he'd tackled to and
helped me to thrash them two ill-looking blackguards."

Meanwhile Trevor and his old schoolfellow had been walking sharply back
towards the house, where they were evidently being watched for by the
old butler, Lloyd--the remains of a fine-looking man, for he was bent
now, though his eyes were clear and bright.

"I saw you coming across the park, Master Dick," he said, his face
shining with pleasure. "You'll have a bit of lunch now, won't you?"

"Early yet, isn't it?" said Pratt.

"I don't think so, sir," said the old butler, austerely. "I am sure
Master Dick requires something after his long walk."

"Yes, yes--that he does," said a rather shrill voice; and an active,
grey-haired woman of about fifty came bustling out. She was very primly
dressed in black silk, with white muslin kerchief, white holland apron,
in whose pockets her hands rested; and her grey