with 'em?"

"Come, that's good!" exclaimed Bywater, in too genuine a tone to admit
a suspicion of its truth. "I have not been near your knife-box; I have
not put my foot inside the door."

In point of fact, Bywater had not. He had stood outside, bending his
head and body inwards, his hands grasping either door-post.

"What's gone with 'em? who 'as took 'em off? I'll swear I put 'em
there, and I have never looked at 'em nor touched 'em since! There's an
infamous conspiracy forming against me! I'm going to be blowed up, like
Guy Fawkes!"

"If you did put them there--'_if_,' you know--some of your friends must
have taken them," cried Bywater, in a tone midway between reason and
irony.

"There haven't a soul been nigh the place," shrieked Ketch.

"Except the milk, and he gave me my ha'porth through the winder."

"Hurrah!" said Bywater, throwing up his trencher. "It's a clear case of
dreams. You dreamt you had a second pair of keys, Ketch, and couldn't
get rid of the impression on awaking. Mr. Ketch, D.H., Dreamer-in-chief
to Helstonleigh!"

Bywater commenced an aggravating dance. Ketch was aggravated
sufficiently without it. "What d'ye call me?" he asked, in a state of
concentrated temper that turned his face livid. "'D?' What d'ye mean by