by the explosion of a gun. A pheasant fell dead on the road, and
Darrell's gamekeeper, gun in hand, came through a gap in the hedge
opposite the park-pales, and, seeing his master close before him,
approached to apologise for the suddenness of the shot.

Whatever Losely's intention in hastening after Darrell, he had no option
now but to relinquish it, and drop back. The village itself was not many
hundred yards distant; and, after all, what good in violence, except the
gratified rage of the moment? Violence would not give to Jasper Losely
the income that had just been within his grasp, and had so unexpectedly
eluded it. He remained, therefore, in the lane, standing still, and
seeing Darrell turn quietly into his park through another gate close to
the Manor-house. The gamekeeper, meanwhile, picked up his bird, reloaded
his gun, and eyed Jasper suspiciously askant. The baffled gladiator at
length turned and walked slowly back to the town he had left. It was
late in the afternoon when he once more gained his corner in the coffee-
room of his commercial inn; and, to his annoyance, the room was crowded
--it was market-day. Farmers, their business over, came in and out in
quick succession; those who did not dine at the ordinaries taking their
hasty snack, or stirrup-cup, while their horses were being saddled;
others to look at the newspaper, or exchange a word on the state of
markets and the nation. Jasper, wearied and sullen, had to wait for the
refreshments he ordered, and meanwhile fell into a sort of half-doze, as
was not now unusual in him in the intervals between food and mischief.
From this creeping torpor he was suddenly roused by the sound of
Darrell's name. Three farmers standing close beside him, their backs to
the fire, were tenants to Darrell--two of them on the lands that Darrell
had purchased in the years of his territorial ambition; the third resided
in the hamlet of Fawley, and rented the larger portion of the
comparatively barren acres to which the old patrimonial estate was