"Yes.""Hist! master Calverley," said Black Jack, entering abruptly, yet noiselessly. "Don't be frightened, it is only Jack Oakley;nay, nay, we don't part so" (springing between Calverley and the door, as the steward, upon recognizing the intruder, had made an effort to pass from the room);"nay, nay, steward, we don't part company so soon;" and drawing a dagger from his bosom, and seizing Calverley in his muscular grasp, he forced him back to his seat. "You had more relish," continued he, "for an interview yesterday morning, when you led on the pack to hunt for poor Black Jack! but he had escaped youyes, he had escaped you," (speaking between his set teeth, and looking as if it would do his heart good to plunge the weapon he was fingering in Calverley's bosom.) "Did you think," he added, after a moment's pause, during which he had replaced the dagger within his vest"did you think Black Jack knew so little of you as to trust his life in your hands, when he saw the blood-hounds making for Sudley? No, noI knew too well that Thomas Calverley, instead of whispering to the retainers that I was a hireling of the Lord of Sudley, would give the assistance my enemies askedand you did!yes, you did;" and his hand, as if instinctively, was again upon the hilt of his dagger, as he looked for a moment at Calverley with the glaring eye, set teeth, and suppressed breath of one who has resolved upon some bloody deed. But the temptation passed away;the rigid features relaxed, and withdrawing his hand from his bosom, and humming a snatch from some popular air, he walked up to the window.Reuben was silent. He sat leaning forward in his chair, holding Alice's hand. Then he abruptly rose to his feet.The tenantry were arranged in the following order:The sunset guttered like spent candles in the windthe rest of the sky was grey, like the fields under it. The distant bleating of sheep came through the dropping swale, as Reuben climbed the Moor. His men were still at work on the new ground, and he made a solemn tour of inspection. They were cutting down the firs and had entirely cleared away the gorse, piling it into a huge bonfire. All that remained of Boarzell's golden crown was a pillar of smoke, punctured by spurts and sparks of flame, rising up against the clouds. The wind carried the smell away to Socknersh and Burntbarns, and the farm-men there looked up from their work to watch the glare of Boarzell's funeral pyre."Samwho fell in," said Sir Robert, as he saw Byles hesitate to proceed farther. "You are right, yeoman, it was Sam, and you helped him outbut I desire you to tell me, if you had succeeded in conveying the buck to Holgrave's shed, how many nobles Master Calverley was to have given you?"
