ger, who accompanied Iver.

"I am a surgeon; happily, now lodging at the Ship, and Mr. Verstage
informed me of what had occurred, so I have come to offer my
assistance."

Jonas was somewhat reassured, but his cunning eyes fixed on Iver
observed that the young painter was looking around, in quest,
doubtless, of Mehetabel.

"I must have hot water. Who will attend to me?" asked the surgeon.

"I will do what is necessary," said Mrs. Rocliffe.

"Will you go to bed?" asked the surgeon, "I can best look to you
then."

Jonas shook his head. He would have the wound examined there, as
he sat in his arm-chair.

Then came the inquiry from Iver--"Where is your wife, Jonas? I
thought she had returned with you."

"My wife? She has lagged behind."

"Not possible. She was to assist you home."

"I needed no assistance."

"She ought to be here to receive instructions from the doctor."

"These can be given to my sister."

"But, Bideabout, where is she?"

Jonas was silent, confused, alarmed.

Iver became uneasy.

"Bideabout, where is Matabel. She must be summoned."

"It's nort to you where she be," answered the Broom-Squire savagely.

Then Mrs. Rocliffe stepped forward.

"I will tell you," she said. "My brother is that mad wi' pain, he
don't know what to think, and say, and do. As they was coming
along together, loving-like, as man and wife, she chanced to slip
and fall into the water, and Jonas, having his arm bad, couldn't
help her out, as he was a-minded, and he runned accordin' here, to
tell me, and I was just about sendin' my Samuel to find and help
her."

"Matabel in the water--drowned!"

"Jonas did not say that. She falled in."

"Matabel--fell in!"

Iver looked from Mrs. Rocliffe towards Jonas. There was something
in the Broom-Squire's look that did not satisfy him. It was not
pain alone that so disturbed his face, and gave it such ghastly
whiteness.

"Bideabout," said he, gravely, "I must and will have a proper
explanation. I cannot take your sister's story. Speak to me
yourself. After what I had seen between you and Matabel, I must
necessarily feel uneasy. I must have a plain explanation from your
own lips."

Jonas was silent; he looked furtively from side to side.

"I will be answered," said Iver, with vehemence.

"Who is to force me to speak?" asked the Broom-Squire, surlily.

"If I cannot, I shall fetch the constable. I say--where did you
leave Mehetabel?"

"My sister told you--under the