might have noticed a curious change of expression on his companion's
face. The smile faded, the lips became set with a kind of grim
determination. But Diggle's pleasant tone had not altered when he said:

"Our ways part here, my friend--for the present. I doubt not we shall
meet again; and if you care to hear of my adventures by field and
flood--why, 'I will a round unvarnished tale deliver,' as the Moor of
Venice says in the play. For the present, then, farewell!"

He turned down a leafy lane, and had disappeared from view before the
chaise reached the spot. As it ran by, its only occupant, a big,
red-faced, white-wigged old gentleman, caught sight of the boy and hailed
him in a rich, jolly voice.

"Ha, Desmond! Home again, you see! Scotched the enemy once more! Come and
see me!"

The chaise was past before Desmond could reply. He watched it until it
vanished from sight; then, feeling somewhat cheered, went on to report to
his brother that the squire had at last returned.

He felt no little curiosity about his new acquaintance. What had brought
him to so retired a spot as Market Drayton? He could have no friends in
the neighborhood, or he would surely not have chosen for his lodging a
place of ill repute like the Four Alls. Yet he had seemed to have some
acquaintance with Grinsell the innkeeper. He did not answer to Desmond's
idea of an adventurer. He was not rough of tongue or boisterous in
manner; his accent, indeed, was refined; his speech somewhat studied,
and, to judge by his allusions and his Latin, he had some share of polite
learning. Desmond was puzzled to fit these apparent incongruities, and