pence in her pocket. Why, a man like you, that all the
county knows, a man who has got two gold medals for bravery, ain't
surely afraid of a thunderstorm?"

"I ain't afraid of the thunderstorm, but I am of the rheumatism," said
the other. "As for a thunderstorm, you're as safe out of doors as in;
some say safer. But you're mistaken if you suppose I don't fear death,
Hawker. I fear it as much as any man."

"It didn't look like it that time you soused in over the weir after the
groom lad," said Hawker.

"Bah! man," said the lawyer; "I'm the best swimmer in Devon. That was
proved by my living at that weir in flood time. So I have less to fear
than any one else. Why, if that boy hadn't been as quiet and plucky as
he was, I knew I could kick him off any minute, and get ashore. Hallo!
that's nearer."

The storm burst on them in full fury, and soon after it grew dark. The
good horse, however, stepped out gallantly, though they made but little
way; for, having left the high road and taken to the narrow lanes,
their course was always either up hill or down, and every bottom they
passed grew more angry with the flooding waters as they proceeded.
Still, through darkness, rain, and storm, they held their way till they
saw the lights of Drumston below them.

"How far is it to your house, Hawker?" said the lawyer. "This storm
seems to hang about still. It is as bad as ever. You must be very wet."

"It's three miles to my place, but a level road, at least all up-hill,
gently rising. Cheer up! We won't be long."

They passed through the village rapidly, lighted by the lightning. The
last three miles were done as quickly as any part of the journey, and
the lawyer rejoiced to find himself before the white gate that led up
to Hawker's house.

It was not long before they drew up to the door. The storm seemed worse
than ever. There was a light in the kitchen, and when Hawker had
halloed once or twice, a young man ran out to take the horse.

"Is that you, my boy?" said Hawker. "Rub the horse down, and come in to
get something. This ain't a night fit for a dog to be out in; is it?"

"No, indeed, sir," said the man. "I hope none's out in it but what
likes to be."

They went in. Madge looked up from arranging the table for supper, and
stared at Hawker keenly. He laughed aloud, and said,--

"So you didn't expect me to-night, deary, eh?"

"You've chose a bad night to come home in, old man," she answered.

"A terrible night, ain't