cups, boys! And the master's health! Long life to him!"

The response was immediate, every man rising to his feet. None of
them were particularly unsteady except Ned Landon, who nearly fell
over the table as he got up, though he managed to straighten
himself in time.

"Farmer Jocelyn!"

"To Briar Farm and the master!"

"Health and good luck!"

These salutations were roared loudly round the table, and then the
whole company gave vent to a hearty 'Hip-hip-hurrah!' that roused
echoes from the vaulted roof and made its flaring lights tremble.

"One more!" shouted Landon, suddenly, turning his flushed face
from side to side upon those immediately near him--"Miss Jocelyn!"

There followed a deafening volley of cheering,--tankards clinked
together and shone in the flickering light and every eye looked
towards the girl, who, colouring deeply, shrank from the tumult
around her like a leaf shivering in a storm-wind. Robin glanced at
her with a half-jealous, half-anxious look, but her face was
turned away from him. He lifted his tankard and, bowing towards
her, drank the contents. When the toast was fully pledged, Farmer
Jocelyn got up, amid much clapping of hands, stamping of feet and
thumping on the boards. He waited till quiet was restored, and
then, speaking in strong resonant accents, said: