THE LOVE-CHILD. 555 



father had made an enormous fortune by robbing his employers, 

 while acting as a slave agent on the Gold Coast : Belroy was probably 

 a descendant of one of the Normans who had helped to beat Harold 

 at the battle of Hastings. The only deed which he possessed as 

 evidence of his title to the land he held, was a bit of parchment 

 scarcely so big as the palm of his huge hand, bearing the same date 

 as Magna Charta, and purporting to have been sealed by " John the 

 King " in the presence of Maud, Cicely, and Egbert Baron of Burr. 

 In very bad Latin it recited and confirmed a grant by William the 

 Norman to Thibaut Belroy and his heirs of all the hundred of Pal- 

 sover, including Squire Patch's property : how the original dona- 

 tion had been so clipped, that nothing but its nucleus remained in 

 the tenure of the first donee's descendants, did not appear. But on 

 this nucleus no human being set so high a value as its owner. No- 

 thing could tempt him to part with it. 



All this I ascertained subsequently to my first well-remembered 

 encounter with him in the field that abutted on Cuckold's Harem. 

 We met on a little bridge, formed by a felled oak sawn in two, and 

 flanked by rude posts and rails, that crossed a slow silent brook, 

 which crept like a snake from the Squire's cover, along the side of 

 the field, and formed a pool in the heart of Belroy's little freehold. 

 At the first glimpse he laughed at me most heartily. I was attired 

 in a tattered coat of the last century ; it had been worn by his grand- 

 father, the kneebands of whose respectable velvet breeches dangled 

 at my ancles while the broad lappels of his upper garment, bedeck- 

 ed with tarnished embroidery, was draggled in the mire at my 

 rear. 



te Here's an imp !" quoth he, adding, as he turned to a beautiful 

 child of about my own age, who accompanied him, " don't come on 

 the bridge, Agnes, for it's slippery. Why, how's this, my gentleman ? 

 What's the use of my setting up scarecrows to keep off the damned 

 pheasants from my corn, if you you little oosbert, make a business 

 of robbing them ? You must be punished for this." I began to 

 blubber, and the little girl sobbed. " You must be punished for 

 this," added he, after a short pause. (e Stay here till I return keep 

 the pheasants off, and perhaps I may forgive you." 



He then turned back, and walked away with his pretty little 

 daughter, who several times looked over her shoulder, to see what I 

 was about. I loitered on the bridge until they disappeared, and then, 

 rather pleased than otherwise with my allotted punishment, I strutted 

 about the field with official importance, and longed for some delin- 

 quent pheasant to alight within a stone's throw. Not a bird, how- 

 ever, ventured to appear for above two hours ; when, weary with 

 walking, I went up to the scarecrow, and leaned against the stick 

 which supported it. In a few minutes a bird flew from the copse 

 into the centre of the field, and, after flapping his wings, crowed as 

 lustily as though he had been perched upon the topmost branch of an 

 oak : two or three hen pheasants soon joined him, and perceiving that 

 they fearlessly approached me, I refrained from throwing the capital 

 pebble with which I had provided myself, until I could make 

 tolerably sure of my aim. The golden opportunity soon arrived : I 



