INTEREST as well as sympathy lit up Alice Carden's eyes. She looked with something more than curiosity at the well-set-up young man who came striding across the turf towards them. May reached over and laid an impressive hand upon her friend's arm.

"I am not sure I meant to tell you so much," she whispered. "I spoke on the spur of the moment. Harry came back to England unexpectedly a little time ago, and I met him by accident in London. It was a bit romantic in its way, but I'll tell you about that later. He came down here to his old home to get some of his belongings, and, to his surprise, nobody recognized him. I was the only person who knew him, excepting an old stud-groom who had been in the employ of the Fieldens for the last fifty years. When he found that no one knew him, he thought he might procure some congenial occupation in his own neighbourhood. It was part of the same romance that he should obtain this employment at the hands of Mr. Copley. But, of course, he does not pass in his own name. Please to recollect that he is Mr. Field. Now, my dear, you have the whole story in a nutshell. It is like the plot of a novel. I am the beautiful heroine, beloved by the rich bounder, while my heart is given to the handsome penniless young man of good family who is in the villain's employ. Don't think me heartless because I speak so lightly of it, and don't forget to behave as if I had not told you this story. Mr. Field is an old friend of ours, and that's the only thing you have to remember."

Alice Carden promised to act discreetly. There was no time to say more, for Fielden was beside them, and Alice found herself bowing to him as if he were a new acquaintance.

"You have not been here before?" he asked.

"This is my first visit to Haredale," Alice said. "But I have seen you before, Mr. Field. Don't you remember you were with my father and Sir George at Mirst Park a day or two ago? We were not introduced then."

"Oh, I have not forgotten it," Fielden laughed. "I understand you are an old friend of May's, I mean Miss Haredale's. Would you mind if I came over to-night after dinner?"

May flashed a glance at the speaker.

"We shall be delighted," she said. "I fancy my father told me he expected Mr. Copley, too."

Fielden said nothing for a moment or two; then it suddenly occurred to him that he had forgotten an important matter which would detain him that evening. He understood what May had hinted to him. He knew it was hardly prudent for him to be much at Haredale Park whilst Copley was in the neighbourhood. By way of turning the conversation, he suggested that the girls should dismount and inspect the stables.

"Nothing I should like better," Alice cried.

"Then come on," Fielden said eagerly. "Let me help you down. You will find the stables everything to be desired. They are modern, luxurious, and nothing appears to have been overlooked. From first to last they must have cost about twice as much as the house. We have a dozen helpers more than are necessary; indeed, things are conducted on a most lavish scale."

"And the horses?" Alice asked. "Are they——"

"Well, as to the horses, the less said about them the better. They are a pretty moderate lot. Perhaps later we may weed them out a bit. But come and see for yourself."

It was growing dusk by the time the inspection was over. Then the two girls walked back towards the archway which led into the wide stable-yard. Outside the gate two of the stable helps were engaged in an altercation with a seedy-looking tramp in an advanced state of intoxication.

"Excuse me for a moment," Fielden said, "I must see what is wrong. Now, my man, what are you doing here?"

It was easy for the girls to notice what was going on and to hear every word that was said. At the tones of authority in Fielden's voice the tramp looked up and made a ludicrous effort to pull himself together. Over his right eye there was a fresh cut, from which the blood was trickling. The helpers, too, showed signs of punishment, and a desire to fling out the stranger, but they dropped back as Fielden appeared.

"I came to see Mr. Copley," the tramp said.

"Mr. Copley isn't here," Fielden said curtly. "Still, if you want him, it would be as well to ask for him in a proper manner. What do you mean by pushing yourself forward in this fashion?"

"I didn't," the tramp said sulkily. "I never said nothing to these men till they ordered me out, and one of them shoved up against me. I don't stand that from any one, guv'nor, and so I tell you. If you don't believe me, try it on yourself."

Fielden was conscious that the blood was mounting into his cheeks. He returned for a moment to where the two girls were standing and walked with them into the road.

"I think you had better leave us," he said. "I must give that fellow a lesson, and this is no place for either of you."

"I hope you won't get hurt," Alice Carden said. "It is curious, but I know that man quite well by sight. He used to be in my father's regiment; in fact, he was his servant. He comes to our rooms in London occasionally and my father helps him with a few coppers and some clothes now and again. I am afraid it is another case of degradation caused by drink."

"It looks like it," Fielden said. "This man was probably one of the Major's racing-touts, one of those broken-down creatures occasionally employed on more or less shady jobs. But he must be taught decent manners. I don't think you need be afraid for me. I'll try to come over to lunch to-morrow."

Fielden saluted the two girls and returned to the spot where the tramp was swaying about defiantly.

"Now what do you want?" he demanded once more.

"What do I want?" the fellow sneered. "Well, I want a sovereign, and I am not going till I get it. If Mr. Copley was here I could have ten sovereigns. Yes, and he would be glad to pay me, too. You think, because I have been unfortunate that I can't get any money. You are wrong, young man, you are wrong."

"Well, you won't get any here," Fielden said. "If you have anything to say to Mr. Copley you had better wait. He will be here at five o'clock, but you must wait outside."

"Me wait outside! Who are you talking to? I don't wait for no man, not even for Raymond Copley. I have got to get back to London to-night anyhow. You just give me a sovereign or two and tell Mr. Copley you've done it. Tell him if I have any more of this sort of thing he had best look for somebody else to play building houses with fruit baskets in Covent Garden. Tell him that. If I have any more of this to put up with he can get somebody else to monkey with his fruit baskets. You needn't say more than that."

In spite of the man's intoxication he knew what he was talking about, and was plainly desirous of conveying something definite. There was a malignant look in his eye which Fielden did not fail to notice.

"Oh, be off," he said impatiently. "I won't have any row here. Are you going, or shall I turn you out?"

The intruder answered with a furious oath. He was anxious, he said, to see any man on the face of the earth who could do a job like that. He lurched violently at Fielden, and the next moment was sprawling on his back with the haziest knowledge of what had happened. Then, at a sign from Fielden, the two helpers took him by the shoulders and legs and carried him into the road. He rose muttering and threatening. He shook his fist towards the stables and lurched off until he was swallowed up by the darkness. Quite unconscious that his knuckles were cut and bleeding Fielden went about his work. It was only when Copley himself appeared and asked what had happened that Fielden looked at his damaged hand.

"Oh, that's nothing," he laughed. "A tramp came here not long since asking for you and demanding a sovereign or two as if you were his banker. The fellow was insolent, and I had to knock him down, but I had no idea my knuckles were cut. Needless to say the man didn't get his sovereign, though he did leave a queer message for you. It is astonishing what strange things men say when they are in liquor."

"And what did this one say?" Copley asked.

"Oh, he said if he could see you he would get as many pounds as he liked. He went on to remark that if he had to put up with any more of this you could find somebody else to monkey with your fruit baskets at Covent Garden. Idiotic, wasn't it?"

Fielden spoke carelessly, but he kept an eye upon Copley. He saw the latter start, remarked the queer look on his face, and how his eyes gleamed with anger.

"Absurd," he said. "I suppose the fellow thinks I am interested in Covent Garden. But there is no accounting for the vagaries of a drunken man. Anyway, it's not worth thinking about. Anything fresh to report?"