ut just took him to the little green
room over the snug and bid him good-night."

"And next morning--did you see him then?" said Hugh.

"No, but a morning when he paid for his bed for he had nowther bite nor
sup in the house."

"Did he look changed?--anything different about him?"

"Nay, nowt but in low feckle someways, and maybe summat different
dressed."

"How different? What did he wear that night?"

Pale as Hugh Ritson's face had been before, it was now white as a face
in moonlight.

"Maybe a pepper and salt tweed coat, but I can't rightly call to mind at
the minute."

Hugh's great eyes stared out of his head. His tongue cleaved to his
mouth, and for the moment denied him speech.

"Thank you, Mistress Calvert. Here, Willie, my man, drink my health with
the missis."

So saying, he tossed a silver coin to the innkeeper, wheeled about, and
rode off.

"I can not mak' nowther head nor tail o' this," said the old man.

"Of what--the brass?" said Janet.

"Nay, but that's soond enough, for sure, auld lass."

"Then just thoo leave other folks's business to theirselves, and come
thy ways in with thee. Thoo wert allus thrang a-meddlin'."

The innkeeper had gone indoors and drawn himself a draught of ale.

"I allus like to see the ins and oots o' things," he observed, with a
twinkle in his eye, and the pot to his mouth.

"Mind as you're not ower keen at seein' the ins and oots o' that
pewter."

"I'll be keerful, auld lass."

Hugh Ritson's horse went clattering over the stones of the streets until
it came to the house of Mr. Bonnithorne. Then Hugh drew up sharply,
jumped from the saddle, tied the reins to the loop in the gate-pier, and
rang the bell. In another minute he was standing in the breakfast-room,
which was made comfortable by a glowing fire. Mr. Bonnithorne, in
dressing-gown and slippers, rose from his easy-chair with a look of
surprise.

"Did you hear of the fire at the mill on Saturday night?" asked Hugh in
a faltering voice.

Mr. Bonnithorne nodded his head.

"Very unlucky, very," said the lawyer. "The man will want recompense,
and the law will support him."

"Tut!--a bagatelle!" said Hugh, with a gesture of impatience.

"Of course, if you say so--"

"You've heard nothing about Paul?"

Mr. Bonnithorne answered with a shake of his yellow head, and a look of
inquiry.

Then Hugh told him of the man at the fire, and of Natt's story when he
drove up in the trap. He spoke with visible