at work. The fresh milk was being brought into the dairy, the
horses were being fed and rubbed down, and all was going on in the
satisfactory way which the boy felt would please his father.

Directly after he ran against old Sam.

"Does one's eyes good to see the master back again, sir. How well he
looks!"

"Yes, Sam. By the way, I didn't see the horse. How does it look?"

"Splendid, sir; but a good run in our enclosure won't do it no harm."

"Let's go and look at it."

"Look at it?" said the old man, grinning. "Well, you'll have to wait
till the master comes back."

"Comes back! What, is he up?"

"Up, my lad? Hours ago, and his nag saddled and gone."

"And I asleep!" cried Nic, in a tone full of vexation. "Which way did
he go? I'll saddle up and ride to meet him."

"He's gone over to the Wattles."

"To Mr Dillon's?"

"Yes, sir. He had a few words with Brooky, and went off directly.
Here, let me clap the saddle on for you, sir."

"No, thank you, Sam," said the boy, with the tone of his voice changing.
"I don't think I wish to go now."

The old man looked at him compassionately. "Don't you be downhearted,
my lad," he said. "You've done right enough. You out with the plain
truth, and you call me for a witness 'bout Leather. My word's as good
with your father as Brooky's. Don't you be afraid. You and me's going
to win."

"Yes, Sam, I hope so," said Nic; and he walked away, to busy himself
about the farm stock till breakfast time.

Just before it was ready the doctor rode back, threw the rein to old
Sam, nodded to Nic, and, looking unusually stern, he entered the house
with his son.

Breakfast was ready, the governor and his wife up, and the latter kept
the conversation going merrily enough, for she could read the doctor's
face, and felt from Nic's looks that something was wrong--something for
which he was about to be blamed.

Every one was glad when the meal was at an end, and the doctor rose,
when Mrs Braydon darted an imploring look at her husband, the two girls
one of commiseration at their brother, whose forehead did not wrinkle,
but became crumpled and pitted, just as it used to at the Friary when he
had to deal with a knotty sum or equation.

"Oh dear!" said Lady O'Hara. "I thought we had left all the business at
home. Are you coming with me, John?"

"No; my dear; I think Braydon wants me."

"If you please," said the doctor. "Nic, my boy, fetch the two men round
to my ro