"Not in my hearing, sir; but others say so. And he's a dark,
vindictive brute; and he swore a solemn oath, they say, when his
brother went to Worrel Jail, to be revenged upon you. And so, Sir
Everard, begging your pardon for the freedom, I thought as how you was
likely to be out late to-night, coming home from my lord's, and as
Brithlow Wood is lonesome and dark--"

"That will do, Godsoe!" the young baronet interrupted, haughtily. "You
mean well, I dare say, and I overlook your presumption this time; but
never proffer advice to me again. As for Darkly, he had better keep
out of my way. I'll horsewhip him the first time I see him, and send
him to make acquaintance with the horse-pond afterward."

He vaulted lightly into the saddle as he spoke.

The brawny gamekeeper stood gazing after him as he ambled down the
leafy avenue.

"His father's son," he said; "the proudest gentleman in Devonshire, and
the most headstrong. You'll horsewhip Dick Darkly, Sir Everard! Why,
he could take you with one hand by the waist-band, and lay you low in
the kennel any day he liked! And he'll do it, too!" muttered Godsoe,
turning slowly away. "You won't be warned, and you won't take
precaution, and you won't condescend to be afeard, and you'll come to
grief afore you know it."

The misty autumn twilight lay like a veil of silver blue over the
peaceful English landscape; a cool breeze swept up from the sea over
the golden downs and distant hills, and as Sir Everard rode along
through the village, the cloud left his face, and a tender, dreamy look