He did not think, as he had honestly confessed, that there was much chance of the Squire becoming a patron of the fine arts, but he wished the young fellow luck, and was glad, for more than one reason, that he staid on.
It was at least three months after his young lodger's arrival that Walter burst into his sitting-room one afternoon, without his usual knock at the door, with the great news that he had just had word, by a safe hand, that a gang of poachers would be in the Home Park that very night, and that all the staff of keepers would be out in waiting for them.
"You know," said he, quite indignant that the young man did not show his enthusiasm, "you told me I was to be sure and let you know, Mr.Yorke; but, of course, you needn't make one of us unless you like." "Oh yes, I'll come," laughed the young fellow--"that is, provided it is fine.

I can't fight in the rain, even for the game laws." "It'll be a lovely night, Sir, with just enough of moonlight to know friends from foes," went on the keeper, rubbing his hands, and unconsciously moistening them in his excitement.

"I knew you'd come.

I said to myself: 'Mr.Yorke'll never turn tail;' and we shall be really glad of your help, for the fact is we are short-handed.

Napes is down with the rheumatics, and two of our men are away from home, and there ain't time to send to the out-beaters.