en spoken of by Priscilla in her own
letters as an occurrence which was quite out of the question. Her
anger against her aunt had been for saying that the man had come,
not for objecting to such a visit. And now the man was coming, and
Aunt Stanbury would know all about it. How great, how terrible, how
crushing would be Aunt Stanbury's triumph!

"I must write and tell her," said Priscilla.

"I am sure I shall not object," said Mrs. Trevelyan.

"And Hugh must be told," said Mrs. Stanbury.

"You may tell all the world, if you like," said Mrs. Trevelyan.

In this way it was settled among them that Colonel Osborne was to
be received. On the next morning, Friday morning, Colonel Osborne,
doubtless having heard something of Mrs. Crocket from his friend
at Cockchaffington, was up early, and had himself driven over to
Nuncombe Putney before breakfast. The ever-watchful Bozzle was, of
course, at his heels,--or rather, not at his heels on the first two
miles of the journey; for Bozzle, with painful zeal, had made himself
aware of all the facts, and had started on the Nuncombe Putney road
half an hour before the Colonel's fly was in motion. And when the
fly passed him he was lying discreetly hidden behind an old oak. The
driver, however, had caught a glimpse of him as he was topping a
hill, and having seen him about on the previous day, and perceiving
that he was dressed in a decent coat and trousers, and that,
nevertheless, he was not a gentleman, began to suspect that he
was--somebody. There was a great deal said afterwards about Bozzle in
Mrs. Clegg's yard at Lessboro'; but the Lessboro' mind was never able
to satisfy itself altogether respecting Bozzle and his mission. As
to Colonel Osborne and his mission, the Lessboro' mind did satisfy
itself with much certainty. The horse was hardly taken from out of
Colonel Osborne's fly in Mrs. Crocket's yard when Bozzle stepped
into the village by a path which he had already discovered, and soon
busied himself among the tombs in the churchyard. Now, one corner of
the churchyard was immediately opposite to the iron gate leading into
the Clock House. "Drat 'un," said the wooden-legged postman, still
sitting on his donkey, to Mrs. Crocket's ostler, "if there be'ant the
chap as was here yesterday when I was a starting, and I zeed 'un in
Lezbro' street thick very morning." "He be'ant arter no good, that
'un," said the ostler. After that a close watch was kept upon the
watcher.

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