secret of his relationship to become known, both for the sake of his mother and for that of the trusting Joan.
Samuel Ceely heard his step and turned his head, disengaged his arm from the woman, and extended the mutilated hand towards the young man.
"I say—I say!" began he, with his water-blue eyes fixed eagerly on Jingles. "I was promised a place; Miss Arminell herself said I should have work, two shillings a day, sweeping, and now they say she has gone away and left no directions about me. If you can put in a word with my lady, or with my lord, mind that I was promised it."
"How can you, Samuel, speak of my lord, when you know he is dead?"
"My lord is not dead," answered the old man sharply. "Master Giles is now my lord. I know what I am about."
"And Samuel would do the work wonderfully well," threw in Joan; "of all the beautifulest things that ever I see, is Samuel's sweeping. If they were to give prizes for that as they do for ploughing, Samuel would be rich."
"I should like," said Giles, "to have some particulars about my lord's death."
"'Tis a terrible job, sure enough," answered the woman. "And folks tell strange tales about it, not half of 'em is true. They've sat on him this afternoon."
"The inquest already?"
"Yes, to be sure. You see he died o' Saturday, so he was crowned to-day. Couldn't do it yesterday."
"And what was the verdict? I have been to Huxham to-day"—this was the nearest town.
"Samuel can tell you better than I, sir, I don't understand these things. But it do seem a funny thing to crown a man when he is dead."
"What was the verdict?" asked Giles of Samuel.
"Well," said the old man, shaking his head. "It puzzled the jury a bit. Some said it was an accident, and some that
