em things we was engaged to do. But
we're not foightin' men!'

'You needn't tell me that!' said the Squire, exasperated. 'The look
of you's enough. So you refuse to barricade those gates?'

'Well, we do, Squoire,' said Perley, in a tone of forced
cheerfulness.

'Yes, we do,' said Dodge slowly, copying the manner of his leader.

All this time Gregson had been standing a little apart from the
rest. His face showed traces of recent drinking, his hands wandered
restlessly from his coat-collar to his pockets, his clothes were
shabby and torn. But when the Squire looked round him, as though
invoking some one or something to aid him against these deserters,
Gregson came forward.

'If you want any help, Mr. Mannering, I'm your man. I suppose these
fellows'll lend a hand with carrying these things up to the gates.
They'll not risk their precious skins much by doing that!'

Perley and Dodge replied with alacrity that so far they would gladly
oblige the Squire, and they began to shoulder the hurdles.

It was at that moment that the Squire caught the eye of the
black-coated man, who had been observing the whole proceedings from
about ten yards off. The expression of the eye roused in Mannering
an itching desire to lay immediate hands on its possessor. He strode
up to him.

'I don't know, sir, why you stand there, looking on at things that
are no business of yours,' he said angrily. 'If you want to know
your way anywhere, one of my men here will show you.'

'Oh, thank you,' said the other tranquilly. 'I know my way
perfectly.' He held up an ordnance map, which he carried in his
hand. 'I'm an engineer. I come from London, and I'm bound for a job
at Crewe. But I'm very fond of country walking when the weather's
good. I've walked about a good bit of England, in my time, but this
part is a bit I don't know. So, as I had two days' holiday, I
thought I'd have a look at your place on the road. And as you are
aware, Mr. Mannering'--he pointed to the map--'this is a
right-of-way, and you can't turn me out.'

'All the same, sir, you are on my property,' said the Squire hotly,
'and a right-of-way only means a right of passing through. I should
be much obliged if you would hurry yourself a little.'

The other laughed. He was a slim fellow, apparently about thirty, in
a fresh, well-cut, serge suit. A book was sticking out of one
pocket; he returned the map to the other. He had the sallow look of
one who has spent years in hot work