alf kill you here to-night.'

'It is because I served her badly. Damned if I care! I'll do it again,
and be hanged to 'ee! Where's my horse Champion? Tell me that,' and he
hit at the trumpet-major.

John parried this attack, and taking him firmly by the collar, pushed him
down into the seat, saying, 'Here I hold 'ee till you beg pardon for your
doings to-day. Do you want any more of it, do you?' And he shook the
yeoman to a sort of jelly.

'I do beg pardon--no, I don't. I say this, that you shall not take such
liberties with old Squire Derriman's nephew, you dirty miller's son, you
flour-worm, you smut in the corn! I'll call you out to-morrow morning,
and have my revenge.'

'Of course you will; that's what I came for.' And pushing him back into
the corner of the settle, Loveday went out of the house, feeling
considerable satisfaction at having got himself into the beginning of as
nice a quarrel about Anne Garland as the most jealous lover could desire.

But of one feature in this curious adventure he had not the least
notion--that Festus Derriman, misled by the darkness, the fumes of his
potations, and the constant sight of Anne and Bob together, never once
supposed his assailant to be any other man than Bob, believing the
trumpet-major miles away.

There was a moon during the early part of John's walk home, but when he
had arrived within a mile of Overcombe the sky clouded over, and rain
suddenly began to fall with some violence. Near him was a wooden granary
on tall stone staddles, and perceiving that the rain was only a
thunderstorm which would soon pass away, he ascended the steps and
entered the doorway, where he stood watching the half-obscured moon
through the streaming rain. Presently, to his surprise, he beheld a
female figure running forward with great rapidity, not towards the
granary for shelter, but towards open ground. What could she be running
for in that direction? The answer came in the appearance of his brother
Bob from that quarter, seated on the back of his father's heavy horse. As
soon as the woman met him, Bob dismounted and caught her in his arms.
They stood locked together, the rain beating into their unconscious
forms, and the horse looking on.

The trumpet-major fell back inside the granary, and threw himself on a
heap of empty sacks which lay in the corner: he had recognized the woman
to be Anne. Here he reclined in a stupor till he was aroused by the
sound of voices und