act was known, at any rate, to Sam Brattle. Had the men simply
intended to rob the garden, they would not have run the risk of
coming so near to the house windows. But then it certainly was true
that Sam was not showing them the way. The parson did not quite know
what to think about it, but it was clearly his duty to be on his
guard.

That same evening he sauntered across the corner of the churchyard
to his neighbour the farmer. Looking out warily for Bone'm, he stood
leaning upon the farm gate. Bone'm was not to be seen or heard, and
therefore he entered, and walked up to the back door, which indeed
was the only door for entrance or egress that was ever used. There
was a front door opening into a little ragged garden, but this was as
much a fixture as the wall. As he was knocking at the back door, it
was opened by the farmer himself. Mr. Fenwick had called to inquire
whether his friend had secured for him,--as half promised,--the
possession of a certain brother of Bone'm's, who was supposed to be
of a very pugnacious disposition in the silent watches of the night.

"It's no go, parson."

"Why not, Mr. Trumbull?"

"The truth is, there be such a deal of talk o' thieves about the
country, that no one likes to part with such a friend as that. Muster
Crickly, over at Imber, he have another big dog it's true, a reg'lar
mastiff, but he do say that Crunch'em be better than the mastiff, and
he won't let 'un go, parson,--not for love nor money. I wouldn't let
Bone'm go, I know; not for nothing." Then Mr. Fenwick walked back to
the Vicarage, and was half induced to think that as Crunch'em was not
to be had, it would be his duty to sit up at night, and look after
the plate box himself.

CHAPTER XI.

DON'T YOU BE AFEARD ABOUT ME.

On the following morning Mr. Fenwick walked down to the mill. There
was a path all along the river, and this was the way he took. He
passed different points as he went, and he thought of the trout he
had caught there, or had wished to catch, and he thought also how
often Sam Brattle had been with him as he had stood there delicately
throwing his fly. In those days Sam had been very fond of him, had
thought it to be a great thing to be allowed to fish with the parson,
and had been reasonably obedient. Now Sam would not even come up to
the Vicarage when he was asked to do so. For more than a year after
the close of those amicable relations the parson had behaved with
kindness and almost wi