o!" Garvington, cornered at last, sprang from his chair
and made for his cousin with unsteady legs. "It might be unpleasant."

"I daresay--to you. Well, will you come with me to Abbot's Wood?"

"Yes," whimpered Garvington. "Wait till I get my cap and stick, curse
you, for an interfering beast. You don't know what you're doing."

"Ah! then you do know something likely to reveal the truth."

"I don't--I swear I don't! I only--"

"Oh, damn you, get your cap, and let us be off," broke in Lambert
angrily, "for I can't be here all day listening to your lies."

Garvington scowled and ambled out of the room, closely followed by his
cousin, who did not think it wise to lose sight of so shifty a person.
In a few minutes they were out of the house and took the path leading
from the blue door to the postern gate in the brick wall surrounding the
park. It was a frosty, sunny day, with a hard blue sky, overarching a
wintry landscape. A slight fall of snow had powdered the ground with a
film of white, and the men's feet drummed loudly on the iron earth,
which was in the grip of the frost. Garvington complained of the cold,
although he had on a fur overcoat which made him look like a baby bear.

"You'll give me my death of cold, dragging me out like this," he moaned,
as he trotted beside his cousin. "I believe you want me to take
pneumonia so that I may die and leave you the title."

"I should at least respect it more than you do," said Lambert with
scorn. "Why can't you be a man instead of a thing on two legs? If you
did die no one would miss you but cooks and provision dealers."

Garvington gave him a vicious glance from his little pig's eyes, and
longed to be tall, and strong, and daring, so that he might knock him
down. But he knew that Lambert was muscular and dexterous, and would
probably break his neck if it came to a tussle. Therefore, as the stout
little lord had a great regard for his neck, he judged it best to yield
to superior force, and trotted along obediently enough. Also he became
aware within himself that it would be necessary to explain to Silver how
he had come to betray him, and that would not be easy. Silver would be
certain to make himself extremely disagreeable. Altogether the walk was
not a pleasant one for the sybarite.

The Abbot's Wood looked bare and lean with the leaves stripped from its
many trees. Occasionally there was a fir, clothed in dark green foliage,
but for the most part the branches of t