Then he smirked sarcastically.

"Like as not you're so brave you wouldn't mind goin' across the Fens," he
said. "Them there flames wouldn't be scarin' such a 'ero as Mr. James
Collins. Oh no! You'll find it a mile or so less than the three miles by
road. It's the shortest cut, but I don't recommend it. 'Owever, that lies
with you. I'll tell Sir Nigel where you're gone if 'e asks me, you may be
sure!"

"Orl right! Across the Fens is the shortest, you says. Well, I'll try it
ternight and see. You're right fer once. I ain't afraid. It tykes more'n
twiddley little bits er lights ter scare James Collins, I tells yer. So
long."

Borkins, standing at the window in the dining room and peering through
the dusk at Collins' sturdy figure as it swung past him down the drive,
bit his lip a moment, and made as if to go after him.

"No, I'll be danged if I do!" he said suddenly. "If 'e knows such a lot,
well, let 'im take the risk. I warned 'im anyhow, so I've done my bit.
The flames'll do the rest." And he laughed.

But James Collins did not come back, when he ought to have done, and the
evening papers arrived before him, brought by the station-master's son
Jacob. Jacob had seen nothing of Collins, and Merriton, who did not know
that the man had gone on this errand, made no remark when the hours went
slowly by, and no sign of Collins appeared.

At eleven o'clock the household retired. Merriton, still ignorant of his
man's absence, went to bed and slept soundly. The first knowledge he