that enlivened the wearisome watch was a visit from the
doctor, to whom the lad made his report, which was followed by a short
chat.

"You won't be sorry to be relieved, Mark, my boy," he said. "You
remember, of course, that Peter Dance is to relieve you, so don't wake
the wrong man."

"I shan't make any mistake," replied Mark confidently; and then he was
alone once more, taking a turn or two about the camp, listening to the
night cries again, and enjoying the confidence given to him by the
knowledge that there was nothing in them that he need fear.

For the most part he kept to one particular spot, where he could stand
and listen, at the same time keeping his eyes fixed upon the glowing
fire, comforted as it were by its social, friendly look as of a
companion which he could trust to ward off danger; and when he felt
disposed he could walk up to it near enough to let its light fall upon
the strong silver hunting watch whose case flew open at the pressure
upon the spring, perhaps not so often as might have happened under the
circumstances.

Somehow a sleeper accustomed to a certain duty is ruled by some natural
impulse to awaken almost to a minute if in the habit of rising to
perform that task, and here Mark roused himself from a train of dreamy
thought to make another journey towards the fire and bend down to look
at his watch.

"Hurrah!" he said to himself. "Ten minutes to two. Just time to throw
on some wood, and rouse up old Peter."

He stood to listen for a minute or two, and then caught up one of the
rough armfuls of wood laid ready for the purpose, threw it on the fire,
and then hurried to the men's waggon and roused the keeper.

"Who is it? You, Mr Mark, sir?"

"Yes. Jump up."

"Where did you hear 'em?" said the man. "In the long coppice, or down
by the ten acres?"

"Hear whom?" said Mark.

"Oh, I beg your pardon, sir. I was dreaming that I was at home and that
you had come to tell me that you had heard poachers. All right, sir,"
said the man, creeping into the shadow after getting his rifle. "You've
got the fire going, then?"

"Yes, but you had better throw on another armful soon."

"Oh, yes, sir; all right. All been quiet?"

"Yes, except that howling brute; but I haven't heard him for the last
hour. You are quite awake, aren't you?"

"Awake, sir? Oh, yes," said the man, shouldering his piece and walking
beside his young master to the other waggon.

"Good-night," said Mark. "I