“Redfern Number Two, ’a called un,” Wolf heard Mr. Beard saying. “Now what be the meaning o’ that , me boy?” He couldn’t hear the big farmer’s answer; but whatever it was, it ended in a sort of bawdy rhyme, of which all he could catch was the chanted refrain, “Jimmie Redfern, he were there!” And with that the door swung behind them.

He had just time to obtain three more drinks from the barmaid before she pulled down the little wooden slide and indicated in no equivocal manner that eleven o’clock had struck.

Simultaneously with this a serving-boy entered and began to turn down the lights. “We ought to be starting for home,” said Darnley Otter, from where he sat by his brother, whose great melancholy eyes were fixed upon vacancy. “And it’s none too soon, either!”