LITMIR.BIZ

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the similarity of feature, did you?”

      “Similarity?”

      “Yes; wonderfully like the ladies we met at the steeplechase, were they not?”

      Richard Trevor looked hard in his friend’s face for a moment, and then they walked on side by side; for at a turn of the lane they met the young keeper, who had so suddenly changed the aspect of the encounter on the course.

      “Ah, Humphrey!” said Trevor, “I’m glad I’ve met you. I’ll have a walk round the preserves.”

      The young keeper touched his hat, changed the double gun from one shoulder of his well-worn velveteen coat to the other, whistled to a setter, and led the way to a stone stile.

      “Another curious case of similarity of feature,” said Trevor, laughing.

      “Well, no – I’ll give in now,” said Pratt; “but I say, Dick, old fellow, ought coincidences like this to occur out of novels?”

      “Never mind that,” said Trevor, “the keeper here, who used to be my playmate as a boy, was as much astonished as I was – weren’t you, Humphrey?”

      “Well, sir,” said the young man, “when I see you th’ other morning, I couldn’t believe my eyes like, that the gentleman who’d pummelled that fellow was the one I’d come up to London to meet. I saw you, too, sir,” he said, touching his hat to Pratt.

      “Yes, my man,” said Pratt, “and felt my toe. I’m sorry to find you did, for you’ve blown up one of the most beautiful propositions I ever made in my life.”

      “Well, now then,” said Trevor, “I’ll see about matters with you, Lloyd; but, by the way, you had better be Humphrey, on account of your father.”

      “Yes, sir; Humphrey, please, sir,” said the young man.

      “Well, now then, as we go on,” said Trevor, “if it don’t bore you, Pratt, we’ll have a talk about farm matters.”

      “Won’t bore me,” said Pratt; “I’m going in for the country gentleman while I stay.”

      “Well, then, Humphrey, how are the crops!”

      “Well, sir,” said Humphrey. “Ah, Juno! what are you sniffing after there?” This to the young dog, which seemed to have been born with a mission to push its head up rabbit burrows too small for the passage. “Well, sir, begging your pardon, but that dog’s took more looking after than e’er a one I ever had.”

      “All right, go on,” said Trevor, following the man across a broad, rock-sided ditch, with a little brook at the bottom.

      “Well, sir,” said the keeper, “the corn is – ”

      “Here, I say, hold hard a minute! This isn’t Pall Mall, Trevor,” shouted Pratt. “How the deuce am I to get over that place?”

      “Jump, man,” cried Trevor, laughing and looking back. “That’s nothing to some of our ditches.”

      Pratt looked at the ditch, then down at his little legs, and then blew out his cheeks.

      “Risk it,” he said, laconically; and, stepping back a few yards, he took a run, jumped, came short, and had to scramble up the bank, a little disarranged, but smiling and triumphant. “All right,” he said, “go on.”

      “Corn is, on the whole, a fair crop, sir,” said Humphrey.

      “And barley?”

      “Plenty of that too, sir. But I’ve a deal of trouble with trespassers, sir.”

      “How’s that?” said Trevor, looking round at the bright, rugged hill and dale, with trees all aglow with the touch of autumn’s hand.

      “You see, sir, it’s the new people,” said the keeper.

      “What new people?”

      “The old gentleman as bought Tolcarne, sir.”

      “Well, what of him?” said Trevor, rather anxiously.

      “Well, sir, he’s a magistrate and a Sir, and a great City of London man, and he wants to be quite the squire. The very first thing he does is to get two men to work on the estate, and who does he get but that Dick Darley and Sam Kelynack; and a nice pair they are, as you may know, sir.”

      “Seeing that I’ve been away for years, Humphrey, I don’t know,” said Trevor.

      “Well, sir, they was both turned out of their last places – one for a bit o’ poaching, and the other for being always on the drink. They know I don’t like ’em – both of ’em,” said Humphrey, with the veins swelling in his white forehead; “and no sooner do they get took on, than they begin to worry me.”

      “How?” said Trevor, smiling.

      “Trespassing on my land, sir – I mean yours, sir, begging your pardon, sir. They will do it, too, sir. You see, there’s a bit of land at the corner where Penreife runs right into the Tolcarne estate – sort of tongue o’ land, sir – and to save going round, they make a path right across there, sir, over our bit of pasture.”

      “Put up a fence, Humphrey,” said Trevor.

      “I do, sir, and bush it, and set up rails; but they knocks ’em down, and tramples all over the place. Sir Hampton’s got an idea that he’s a right to that bit, as his land comes nigh surrounding it, and that makes ’em so sarcy.”

      “Well, we must see to it,” said Trevor. “I want to be good friends with all my neighbours.”

      “Then you’ve cut out your work,” said Pratt, drily.

      “You won’t be with Sir Hampton, sir, you may reckon on that,” said Humphrey. “Lady Rea is a kind, pleasant lady enough, and the young ladies is very nice, sir, and he’s been civil enough to me; but he upsets everybody nearly – him and his sister.”

      “Never mind about that,” said Trevor, checking him. “I wish to be on good terms with my neighbours, and if there be any trespass – any annoyance from Sir Hampton’s people – tell me quietly, and I will lay the matter before their master.”

      “Or we might get up a good action for trespass,” said Pratt. “But, by the way,” he said, stopping short, and sticking one finger on his forehead, “is this Sir Hampton the chuffy old gentleman we saw at the steeplechase?”

      “Yes, sir; and as told me I might get up on the box-seat. That was him, you know, as that blackguard prodded with his stick.”

      “Phew!” whistled Pratt. “I say, Dick,” he whispered, “the old chap did not see us under the best of auspices.”

      “No; it’s rather vexing,” was the reply.

      They walked on from dense copse to meadow, through goodly fields of grain, and down in deep little vales, with steep sides covered with fern, bramble, and stunted pollard oaks.

      “Poor youth!” said Pratt, and stopped to mop his forehead. “How low-spirited you must feel to be the owner of such a place. It’s lovely. Nature’s made it very beautiful; but no wonder – see what practice she has had.”

      Trevor laughed, and Humphrey smiled, saying —

      “If you come a bit farther this way, sir, there’s a capital view of the house.”

      Pratt followed the man; and there, at about half a mile distance, on the slope of a steep hill, was the rugged, granite-built seat – Penreife – half ancient, half modern; full of buttresses, gables, awkward chimney-stacks, and windows of all shapes, with the ivy clustering over it greenly, and a general look of picturesque comfort that no trimly-built piece of architecture could display. The house stood at the end of one of the steep valleys running up from the sea, which shone in the autumn sun about another half-mile farther, with grey cottages clustering on the cliff, and a little granite-built harbour, sheltering some half a dozen duck-shaped luggers and a couple of yachts.

      “Ah,” said Pratt, “that’s pretty! Beats Ludgate Hill and Fleet Street all to fits.

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