ugh few
things would have embarrassed the rector more than a successful end to
the chase, he did not dare to check their ardour.

His peaceful solitude was therefore perpetually disturbed throughout the
day by the arrival of breathless parties of scouts. He would sally out
to the gate to meet them, and ask nervously: "Well, my lads, seen
anything of him, eh?" Deep was his inward relief when the day closed in
with no news of the thief, for he would have cheerfully sacrificed many
silver inkstands rather than have been obliged to deliver the
unfortunate Barney into the hands of justice.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Two evenings later than this, the vicar of Danecross stood at the open
door of the Darvells' cottage at Green Highlands, and looked into the
room. Mrs Darvell was alone, scrubbing away at her brick floor on her
knees, and surrounded by a formidable array of pails, and brushes, and
mops. The place had a comfortless air, and there was no fire on the
hearth.

"Late at work, Mrs Darvell, eh?" was the vicar's greeting as he stood
on the threshold.

Mrs Darvell got up quickly, and dropped her usual brisk courtesy, but
her face looked dull and spiritless.

"I'm in too much of a muss to ask you in, sir," she said, glancing
round.

"Oh, never mind," said the clergyman; "where's Darvell? Isn't he back
from work yet?"

Mrs Darvell shrugged her shoulders, and made an expressive movement
with her head in the direction of Danecross.

"I reckon he's where he generally is now," she answered moodily, "at the
`Nag's Head.'"

"Why, that's something new, isn't it? I always consider Darvell one of
the steadiest men in my parish."

Mrs Darvell looked up defiantly.

"Maybe it's partly my fault," she said; "but we've never had a minute's
comfort since the little lad went. And things get worse and worse. I
don't care no more to keep the place nice, and I ups and speaks sharp to
Darvell, and he goes off to the `Nag's Head.'"

The vicar nodded his head slowly, as though Darvell's conduct was not
quite incomprehensible under such circumstances, and Mrs Darvell
continued in a lower tone:

"You know, sir, it wur because my man lifted his hand to Frank that the
lad went off; and I don't seem as how I can forget it. When I look at
Darvell I keep on rememberin' as how, if he'd bin more patient with the
boy we should ha' had him with us still. Darvell's been a good man t