er of the property on which he was found trespassing.
I was still further surprised when Miles, instead of showing any signs
of resentment, merely turned and said in an almost jocular tone,--

"Hullo! what are you up to? It's a mercy I didn't mistake you for a
fox or a rabbit, and put a charge of shot into your whiskers."

"Just out for an evening stroll, sir, and lay down to rest," replied
the man, whistling the dog to his side. There was a funny twinkle in
his piercing gray eyes as he spoke, the meaning of which Miles seemed
to fathom, for his own face relaxed into a grin.

[Illustration: There was a funny twinkle in his eyes as he spoke.]

"Begging your pardon, sir," the fellow continued, "I don't think you're
likely to find any rabbits in this copse to-night. They're all gone to
bed early, or perhaps old Joey may have frightened them."

For another moment Miles and the man stood looking into each other's
faces, and once more the meaning smile passed between them; then the
former uncocked his gun, and slung it over his shoulder.

"All right!" he answered.--"Come on, Sylvester; it's time we went back
to supper."

There was no hedge to the copse. We stepped out from among the trees
and underwood, and had not gone far when the man came running after us.

"Master Miles," he said, "if ever you want to go a-fishing, you can
come down to Rockymouth and have the boat, sir; and if you'll give me a
call, I'll go with you."

I hardly heard what he said, for glancing into the wood, something
caught my eye which immediately riveted my attention. Projecting from
behind a clump of bushes were a pair of heavy boots, and as I looked
one of them moved, which showed conclusively that they were not empty.
I waited till we had got some little distance beyond the copse, and
then seized my companion's arm.

"Miles," I whispered, "there's another man hiding in the wood."

"Is there?" he answered carelessly. "Some friend of old Lewis, I
suppose."

"Is that the old sailor you were talking about?" I asked. "What's he
doing in your wood at this time in the evening? Lying down, too,
concealed among the bushes. He must be poaching."

Miles only smiled, and shook his head.

"He's all right. The chap wouldn't harm a stick of our property; in
fact, he'd just about murder any one who did."

Though more mystified than ever with this explanation, it was the only
one I could get, and we walked on talking of other matters until