bottom of this mischief; and that he had amused himself by taking
Margery to a ball?

Doubts and suspicions which distract some lovers to imbecility only
served to bring out Jim's great qualities. Where he trusted he was
the most trusting fellow in the world; where he doubted he could be
guilty of the slyest strategy. Once suspicious, he became one of
those subtle, watchful characters who, without integrity, make good
thieves; with a little, good jobbers; with a little more, good
diplomatists. Jim was honest, and he considered what to do.

Retracing his steps, he peeped again. She had gone in; but she would
soon reappear, for it could be seen that she was carrying little new
cheeses one by one to a spring-cart and horse tethered outside the
gate--her grandmother, though not a regular dairywoman, still
managing a few cows by means of a man and maid. With the lightness
of a cat Jim crept round to the gate, took a piece of chalk from his
pocket, and wrote upon the boarding 'The Baron.' Then he retreated
to the other side of the garden where he had just watched Margery.

In due time she emerged with another little cheese, came on to the
garden-door, and glanced upon the chalked words which confronted her.
She started; the cheese rolled from her arms to the ground, and broke
into pieces like a pudding.

She looked fearfully round, her face burning like sunset, and, seeing
nobody, stooped to pick up the flaccid lumps. Jim, with a pale face,
departed as invisibly as he had come. He had proved the bandsman's
tale to be true. On his way back he formed a resolution. It was to
beard the lion in his den--to call on the Baron.