Who is this Mr. Lamb?"

"I ken naething aboot him, foreby that he's a moothin' cratur frae the
Croon Lans Depairtment, wi' no owre muckle brains."

Dropping the subject, the Squire proceeded to tell what he had found in
Nash's papers, and proposed an expedition, ostensibly for fishing, in
which the two of them, providing themselves with tools, should prospect
for the hidden treasure of the former master of the Select Encampment.
As it was unlikely that any claimant for Rawdon's property would appear,
all that they found would belong to Matilda and her boy, unless it were
judged right to indemnify Miss Du Plessis for any injury done to her
land. There was no reason for the lawyer's departure. He had another
week of leave, which he did not know how to put in. True, he could not
remain until Wilkinson was perfectly well, but it would seem heartless
to desert him so soon after he had received his wound. He had thought of
writing the Squire about Miss Carmichael's position as her deceased
father's next of kin, but it would save trouble to talk it over. All
things considered, Mr. Carruthers did not find it a difficult task to
make his pleasant new acquaintance reconsider his decision and commit
himself to an indefinite prolongation of Bridesdale hospitality. Yet, as
he entered the gate, he almost repented his weakness, on hearing the
eye-glassed Lamb say: "What ohfully jawlly times we hod, Morjorie, when
you and I were sweethorts." He wished that he could recall some
frightfully injurious and profane expression in a foreign tongue, with
which to anathematize the wretched, familiar, conceited Crown Lands
Department cad. While the Squire joined the doctor and the Captain in
the office, he went over to a corner in which the pipes of the veteran
and Mr. Bigglethorpe were still glowing, and, lighting his own, listened
to their military and piscatorial yarns.

Rufus had remained at Bridesdale, at the urgent entreaty of his sisters
and the Pilgrims; but the sight of the people going to prayer meeting
smote his conscience. He knew his father and mother would be at meetin'
in their own church, and that there would be a good deal of work to do.
Besides he hadn't brought home the team from Mr. Hislop's since the bee.
Nothing would stop him, therefore; he shouldered his gun, and, bidding
all good bye, started for home. Nobody was left in the kitchen but the
two maids and the two Pilgrims. Yes, there was one more, namely Mr.
Pawkins, wh