AFTER TEN YEARS.

"I have said it, and I mean it; they ought to know me well enough by
this time, Godsoe. I'd transport every man of them, the poaching
scoundrels, if I could! Tell that villain Dick Darkly that the first
time I catch him at his old tricks he shall follow the brother he makes
such a howling about, and share his fate."

Sir Everard Kingsland was the speaker. He stood with one hand, white
and shapely as a lady's, resting on the glossy neck of his bay horse,
his fair, handsome face, flushed with anger, turned upon his gamekeeper.

Peter Godsoe, the sturdy gamekeeper, standing before his young master,
hat in hand, looked up deprecatingly.

"He takes it very hard, Sir Everard, that you sent his brother to
Worrel Jail. His missis was sick, and two of the children had the
measles, and Will Darkly he'd been out o' work, and they was poor as
poor. So he turns to and snares the rabbits, and--"

"Godsoe, are you trying to excuse this convicted poacher? Is that what
you stopped me here to say?"

"I beg your pardon, Sir Everard; I only wanted to warn you--to put you
on your guard--"

"To warn me--to put me on my guard? What do you mean? Has that
villainous poacher dared to threaten me?"