quality in you; no doubt you made a favorable impression upon him on the
day of the fox-chase; and so, although you are hunting him down, he will
not injure you, if he can help it. I find all that very natural, in a
man of his nature."

"But Deb. Smith?" Gilbert asked.

"That," said Martha, "is rather a curious coincidence, but nothing more,
I think. She is said to be a superstitious creature, and if you have
ever befriended her,--and you may have done so, Gilbert, without your
good heart being aware of it,--she thinks that her spells, or charms, or
what not, will save you from harm. No, I was wrong; it is not so very
strange, except Fortune's intimacy with Alfred Barton, which everybody
was talking about at the time."

Gilbert drew a deep breath of relief. How the darkness of his new fear
vanished, in the light of Martha's calm, sensible words! "How
wonderfully you have guessed the truth!". he cried. "So it is; Deb.
Smith thinks she is beholden to me for kind treatment; she blew upon my
palm, in a mysterious way, and said she would stand by me in time of
need! But that about Fortune puzzles me. I can see that Barton is very
shy of me since he thinks I've made the discovery."

"We must ask Betsy Lavender's counsel, there," said Martha. "It is
beyond my depth."

The supper smoked upon the table when they reached the farm-house. It
had been well earned, and it was enjoyed, both in a physical and a
social sense, to the very extent of the guests' capacities. The King sat
at the head of the table, and Gilbert Potter--forced into that position