Inside the room an old man sat at a table. It was littered with books,

some of them open as if he had been consulting them; but before him lay

an open deed, and at his elbow were several others lying on an open

deed-box. He was thin and as faded-looking and as worn with age as the

house and the room, lined with dusty volumes and yellow,

surface-cracked maps and pictures. He wore a long dressing-gown which

was huddled round him as if he were cold, though a fire of logs almost

as large as the one in the hall was burning in the open fire-place.

At the sound of the knock he raised his head, an expression, which was

a mixture of fear and senile cunning came into his lined and pallid

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face, his dull eyes peered from under their lids with a flash of sudden

alertness, and with one motion of his long hands he hurriedly folded

the deed before him, crammed it, with the others, into the box, locked

it with a hurried and trembling hand, and placed it in a cupboard,

which he also locked; then he drew one of the large books into the

place were the deed had been, and with a cautious glance round the

room, shuffled to the door, and opened it.

As the girl entered, one would have noticed the resemblance between her

and the old man, and have seen that they were father and daughter; for

Godfrey Heron had been one of the handsomest men of his time, and

though she had got her dark eyes and the firm, delicate lips from her

mother, the clear oval of her face and its expression of aristocratic

pride had come from the Herons.

"Are you here still, father?" she said. "It is nearly dinner-time, and

you are not dressed. You promised me that you would go out: how wicked

of you not to have done so!"

He shuffled back to the table and made a great business of closing the

book.

"I've been busy--reading, Ida," he said. "I did not know it was so

late. You have been out, I see; I hope you have enjoyed your ride. Have

you met anyone?"

"No," she replied; then she smiled, as she added: "Only a poacher."

The old man raised his head, a faint flush came on his face and his

eyes flashed with haughty resentment.

"A poacher! What are the keepers about! Ah, I forgot; there are no

keepers now; any vagrant is free to trespass and poach on Herondale!"




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