mined that the best
thing he could do was to remove.

After some time turning the thing over in his mind, he decided that no
place would be so good for his purpose as old Nanny's cottage. It was
thirty miles away from Stokoe, which in the country means as far as
Timbuctoo does to us in London. Then it was near Tangley, and his lady
having known it from her childhood would feel at home there, and also it
was utterly remote, there being no village near it or manor house other
than Tangley Hall, which was now untenanted for the greater part of the
year. Nor did it mean imparting his secret to others, for there was only
Mrs. Cork's son, a widower, who being out at work all day would be
easily outwitted, the more so as he was stone deaf and of a slow and
saturnine disposition. To be sure there was little Polly, Mrs. Cork's
granddaughter, but either Mr. Tebrick forgot her altogether, or else
reckoned her as a mere baby and not to be thought of as a danger.

He talked the thing over with Mrs. Cork, and they decided upon it out of
hand. The truth is the old woman was beginning to regret that her love
and her curiosity had ever brought her back to Rylands, since so far she
had got much work and little credit by it.

When it was settled, Mr. Tebrick disposed of the remaining business he
had at Rylands in the afternoon, and that was chiefly putting out his
wife's riding horse into the keeping of a farmer near by, for he thought
he would drive over with his own horse, and the other spare horse tandem
in the dogcart.

The next morning they locked up the house and they departed, having
first secured Mrs. Tebrick in a large wicker hamper where she would be
tolerably comfortable. This was for safety, for in the agitation of
driving she might jump out, and on the other hand, if a dog scented her
and she were loose, she might be in danger of her life. Mr. Tebrick
drove with the hamper beside him on the front seat, and spoke to her
gently very often.

She was overcome by the excitement of the journey and kept poking her
nose first through one crevice, then through another, turning and
twisting the whole time and peeping out to see what they were passing.
It was a bitterly cold day, and when they had gone about fifteen miles
they drew up by the roadside to rest the horses and have their own
luncheon, for he dared not stop at an inn. He knew that any living
creature in a hamper, even if it be only an old fowl, always draws
attention;