idow. "Do be quiet."

"Fact," replied the farmer; "solemn fact, I assure you. And he asked her
whether you were fond of jewellery."

"I met him twice in the road near here yesterday," said Mrs. Clowes,
suddenly. "Perhaps he was waiting for you to come out."

"I dare say," replied the farmer. "I shouldn't wonder but what he's
hanging about somewhere near now, unable to tear himself away."

Mr. Bodfish wrung his hands, and his thoughts reverted instinctively to
instances in his memory in which charges of murder had been altered by
the direction of a sensible judge to manslaughter. He held his breath
for the next words.

Mr. Negget drank a little more ale and looked at Mrs. Driver.

[Illustration: MRS. DRIVER FELL RACK BEORE THE EMERGING FORM OF MR.
BODFISH]

"I wonder whether you've got a morsel of bread and cheese?" he said,
slowly. "I've come over that hungry--"

The widow and Mr. Bodfish rose simultaneously. It required not the brain
of a trained detective to know that the cheese was in the larder. The
unconscious Mrs. Driver opened the door, and then with a wild scream fell
back before the emerging form of Mr. Bodfish into the arms of Mrs.
Clowes. The glass of Mr. Negget smashed on the floor, and the farmer
himself, with every appearance of astonishment, stared at the apparition
open-mouthed.

"Mr.--Bodfish!" he said at length, slowly.

Mr. Bodfish, incapable of speech, glared at him ferociously.

"Leave him alone," said Mrs. Clowes, who was ministering to her friend.
"Can't you see the man's upset at frightening her? She's coming round,
Mr. Bodfish; don't be alarmed."

"Very good," said the farmer, who found his injured relative's gaze
somewhat trying. "I'll go, and leave him to explain to Mrs. Driver why
he was hidden in her larder. It don't seem a proper thing to me."

"Why, you silly man," said Mrs. Clowes, gleefully, as she paused at the
door, "that don't want any explanation. Now, Mr. Bodfish, we're giving
you your chance. Mind you make the most of it, and don't be too shy."

She walked excitedly up the road with the farmer, and bidding him
good-bye at the corner, went off hastily to spread the news. Mr. Negget
walked home soberly, and hardly staying long enough to listen to his
wife's account of the finding of the brooch between the chest of drawers
and the wall, went off to spend the evening with a friend, and ended by
making a night of it.

IN THE LIBRARY

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