e father
never does any business now; but they were so serious, and my mother
looked so troubled."

Fred gave his ear a rub, as if he were vexed.

"I suppose it was thinking so much about that rabbit-hole of a place up
at the Hall," he muttered. "I never thought any more about mother
looking so serious, and having tears in her eyes. I'll ask her what's
the matter."

He walked slowly on till he came in sight of the western road, which
looked like a narrow path crossing the distant hill.

"Why, there's somebody coming," he cried, as he sheltered his eyes to
make out what was evidently a mounted man moving slowly along the road.
"He's coming this way," said Fred, musingly. "I wonder who it is?"

Not much of a matter for consideration, in modern days; but to the
dwellers in that retired part of Coombeland, far away from a town, the
coming of a strange horseman was an event, and, regardless of where he
put his feet, Fred went on trying to keep the mounted man in view, as he
disappeared at times in the hollows, and then came into sight again,
evidently moving at a foot's pace.

"It must be Captain Miles coming back," cried Fred, as the figure
disappeared from view in consequence of the lad having to descend into a
hollow before rising the opposite hill.

"That old place will be no end of a game when we have cleared it out,"
mused the boy, as he went slowly down the hill. "It will be a lot of
trouble though, and we shall have to sweep and clear away the dust and
cobwebs too. I wish we could set Samson and Nat to work, only we can't
do that, because, if we did, it wouldn't be a secret place; and,
besides, they would do nothing but quarrel, and get no work done.
Wonder whether brothers always do quarrel. Why, they're worse than Scar
and I are, though we do have a pretty good row sometimes."

Ten minutes later he was mounting the hill, and, as he reached the top,
he hastened his pace, so as to get within view of the coming horseman,
who was for the moment shut out from view by a patch of woodland; but
the regular beat of the horse's hoofs came plainly enough.

"Sounds in the distance just like my pony's trot," said Fred,
thoughtfully; and directly after he burst out with a loud, "Oh!" full of
vexation in its tone. "Why, it's only old Samson, after all," he cried.
"Think of me taking him for Captain Miles!"

He set off at a sharp run across the moorland, so as to cut off a great
piece of the road, and reach a po