loathed them in his heart.

"The squire is within?"

"Yes, sir."

They dismounted, and Dick held their stirrups.

"He has been to church--eh?"

Dick made no answer. He feigned to be busy with one of the saddles.

The magistrate glanced at him sharply.


V

It was a strange dinner that day.

Outwardly, again, all was as usual--as it might have been on any other
Sunday in spring. The three gentlemen sat at the high table, facing down
the hall; and, since there was no reading, and since it was a festival,
there was no lack of conversation. The servants came in as usual with
the dishes--there was roast lamb to-day, according to old usage, among
the rest; and three or four wines. A little fire burned against the
reredos, for cheerfulness rather than warmth, and the spring sunshine
flowed in through the clear-glass windows, bright and genial.

Yet the difference was profound. Certainly there was no talk, overheard
at least by the servants, which might not have been on any Sunday for