his chair, and endure an introduction to his family, was more than he
bargained for. He commenced blinking hard in preparation for the
horrible dose to which delay and the farmer's cordiality added
inconceivable bitters. Farmer Blaize was quite at his ease; nowise in a
hurry. He spoke of the weather and the harvest: of recent doings up at
the Abbey: glanced over that year's cricketing; hoped that no future
Feverel would lose a leg to the game. Richard saw and heard Arson in it
all. He blinked harder as he neared the cup. In a moment of silence, he
seized it with a gasp.

"Mr. Blaize! I have come to tell you that I am the person who set fire
to your rick the other night."

An odd consternation formed about the farmer's mouth. He changed his
posture, and said, "Ay? that's what ye're come to tell me sir?"

"Yes!" said Richard, firmly.

"And that be all?"

"Yes!" Richard reiterated.

The farmer again changed his posture. "Then, my lad, ye've come to tell
me a lie!"

Farmer Blaize looked straight at the boy, undismayed by the dark flush of
ire he had kindled.

"You dare to call me a liar!" cried Richard, starting up.