low
crocuses; across wide brown heaths, whose outlines raised in Evan's mind
the night of his funeral walk, and tossed up old feelings dead as the
whirling dust. At last Raikes called out:

'The towers of Fallow field; heigho!'

And Andrew said:

'Now then, Van: if Old Tom's anywhere, he's here. You get down at the
Dragon, and don't you talk to me, but let me go in. It'll be just the
hour he dines in the country. Isn't it a shame of him to make me face
every man of the creditors--eh?'

Evan gave Andrew's hand an affectionate squeeze, at which Andrew had to
gulp down something--reciprocal emotion, doubtless.

'Hark,' said Raikes, as the horn of the guard was heard. 'Once that sound
used to set me caracoling before an abject multitude. I did wonders. All
London looked on me! It had more effect on me than champagne. Now I hear
it--the whole charm has vanished! I can't see a single old castle. Would
you have thought it possible that a small circular bit of tin on a man's
person could produce such changes in him?'

'You are a donkey to wear it,' said Evan.

'I pledged my word as a gentleman, and thought it small, for the money!'
said Raikes. 'This is the first coach I ever travelled on, without making
the old whip burst with laughing. I'm not myself. I'm haunted. I'm
somebody else.'

The three passengers having descended, a controversy commenced between
Evan and Andrew as to which should pay. Evan had his money out; Andrew
dashed it behind him; Evan remonstrated.

'Well, you mustn't pay for us two, Andrew. I would have let you do it
once, but--'

'Stuff!' cried Andrew. 'I ain't paying--it 's the creditors of the
estate, my boy!'

Evan looked so ingenuously surprised and hurt at his lack of principle,
that Andrew chucked a sixpence at a small boy, saying,

'If you don't let me have my own way, Van, I 'll shy my purse after it.
What do you mean, sir, by treating me like a beggar?'

'Our friend Harrington can't humour us,' quoth Raikes. 'For myself, I
candidly confess I prefer being paid for'; and he leaned contentedly
against one of the posts of the inn till the filthy dispute was arranged
to the satisfaction of the ignobler mind. There Andrew left them, and
went to Mrs. Sockley, who, recovered from her illness, smiled her usual
placid welcome to a guest.

'You know me, ma'am?'

'Oh, yes! The London Mr. Cogglesby!'

'Now, ma'am, look here. I've come for my brother. Don't be alarmed. No
danger as yet. But,