moor-hens, who in turn roused up some bald coots,
the whole party fluttering away with drooping legs towards the other end
of the lake. Here they swam about, twitching their tails, and dividing
their time between watching the now distant intruder and keeping a sharp
look-out for the great pike, which at times sought a change of diet from
constant fish, and swallowed moor-hen or duckling, or even, preferring
four-footed meat to fowl, seized upon some unfortunate rat.

"Hi, Nat!" shouted the boy, as he neared the grassy terrace in front of
the hall, and caught sight of a sturdy-looking young man busy in the
garden.

"Hullo, Master Fred!"

"Where's Master Scarlett?"

"Where's Master Scarlett, sir?" said the man, slowly and deliberately
straightening his back, and resting upon the tool he handled.

"Yes. Don't you say he has gone with them, or I'll never give you a mug
of cider again."

"Well, I wasn't going to say as Master Scar's gone with 'em," said the
man, with a look of wonder in his eyes. "He was here a bit ago, though
I didn't see him."

"Then, how do you know he was here?"

"Because nobody else wouldn't--"

"Wouldn't what?"

"Well, you see, Master Fred, it was like this here. I was a-stooping
over the bed, tidying up the edge o' the grass, when--whop!"

"What, did he hit you, Nat!" said the boy, grinning.

"Well, sir, he did and he didn't, if you can understand that."

"No, I can't. What do you mean?"

"This here fox-whelp come and hit me side o' the head, and it must ha'
been him as throwed it; and that made me know as he was at home."

As the man spoke, he took a cider apple from his pocket, a hard, green,
three-parts-grown specimen of the fruit, and involuntarily began to rub
the place where he had been struck.

"Yes; that looks as if he was at home, Nat," said the boy, showing his
white teeth.

"Yes, Master Fred, that looks as if he was at home; but you wouldn't
have laughed if you'd had it."

"He did it to wake you up, Nat."

"Oh, I was waken enough, Master Fred; but how's Brother Samson?"

"Like you, Nat, half asleep," cried the boy, looking back as he hurried
on toward the house, leaving the man staring after him thoughtfully.

"Yes," he muttered, "Samson is a deal like me. Wonder whether Master
Fred ever chucks apples at he?"

Meanwhile the lad addressed as Master Fred made his way along the house
front, peering in at first one and then another window, till he reached
the