rears, with so sharp a hand as the mine-owner; the
beer-house was to be perpetuated, and a nucleus of custom secured from
the miners, partly by the truck system, and partly by the superiority of
the liquor, for Bartley announced at once that he should brew the beer.

All these things were too much for a man with gout in his system; Colonel
Clifford had a worse attack of that complaint than ever; it rose from his
feet to other parts of his frame, and he took to his bed.

In that condition a physician and surgeon visited him daily, and his
lawyer also was sent for, and was closeted with him for a long time on
more than one occasion.

All this caused a deal of speculation in the village, and as a system
of fetch and carry was now established by which the rival magnates also
received plenty of information, though not always accurate, about each
other, Mr. Bartley heard what was going on, and put his own
construction upon it.

* * * * *

Just when Mr. Hope was expected to return came a letter to Mary to say
that he should be detained a day or two longer, as he had a sore throat
and fever, but nothing alarming. Three or four days later came a letter
only signed by him, to say he had a slight attack of typhoid fever, and
was under medical care.

Mary implored Mr. Bartley to let her go to him. He refused, and gave his
reasons, which were really sufficient, and now he became more unwilling
than ever to let her visit Mrs. Easton.

This was the condition of affairs when one day an old man with white
hair, dressed in black, and looking almost a gentleman, was driven up to
the farm by Colonel Clifford's groom, and asked, in an agitated voice, if
he might see Miss Mary Bartley.

Her visitors were so few that she was never refused on speculation, so
John Baker was shown at once into her drawing-room. He was too much
agitated to waste time.

"Oh, Miss Bartley," said he, "we are in great distress at the Hall. Mr.
Walter has gone, and not left his address, and my poor master is dying!"

Mary uttered an unfeigned exclamation of horror.

"Ah, miss," said the old man, "God bless you; you feel for us, I'm not on
the old man's side, miss; I'm on Mr. Walter's side in this as I was in
the other business, but now I see my poor old master lying pale and
still, not long for this world, I do begin to blame myself. I never
thought that he would have taken it all to heart like this. But, there,
the only thi