Whoever might be paying attention to Miss Rose at that moment he felt
quite certain that it was not Mr. Ned Quince, and he trembled with anger
as he saw the absurd situation into which the humorous Mr. Rose had led
him. For years Little Haven had accepted his decisions as final and
boasted of his sharpness to neighbouring hamlets, and many a cottager had
brought his boots to be mended a whole week before their time for the
sake of an interview.

He moved his chair from the table and smoked a pipe. Then he rose, and
putting a couple of formidable law-books under his arm, walked slowly
down the road in the direction of Holly Farm.

The road was very quiet and the White Swan, usually full at this hour,
was almost deserted, but if any doubts as to the identity of the prisoner
lingered in his mind they were speedily dissipated by the behaviour of
the few customers who crowded to the door to see him pass.

A hum of voices fell on his ear as he approached the farm; half the male
and a goodly proportion of the female population of Little Haven were
leaning against the fence or standing in little knots in the road, while
a few of higher social status stood in the farm-yard itself.

"Come down to have a look at the prisoner?" inquired the farmer, who was
standing surrounded by a little group of admirers.

[Illustration: "'Come down to have a look at the prisoner?' inquired the
farmer."]

"I came down to see you about that advice I gave you this afternoon,"
said Mr. Quince.

"Ah!" said the other.

"I was busy when you came," continued Mr. Quince, in a voice of easy
unconcern, "and I gave you advice from memory. Looking up the subject
after you'd gone I found that I was wrong."

"You don't say so?" said the farmer, uneasily. "If I've done wrong I'm
only doing what you told me I could do."

"Mistakes will happen with the best of us," said the shoemaker, loudly,
for the benefit of one or two murmurers. "I've known a man to marry a
woman for her money before now and find out afterward that she hadn't got
any."

One unit of the group detached itself and wandered listlessly toward the
gate.

"Well, I hope I ain't done nothing wrong," said Mr. Rose, anxiously.
"You gave me the advice; there's men here as can prove it. I don't want
to do nothing agin the law. What had I better do?"

"Well, if I was you," said Mr. Quince, concealing his satisfaction with
difficulty, "I should let him out at once and beg his pardon,