like, and I can hold my tongue when I like. Gi' me a guinea, and I'll hold my tongue."

She held out her brown hand, leering up into his face.

"What do you mean?" he exclaimed. "I shall give you no money."

She looked round at Edith, who stood by trembling.

"Tell him he'd best, mistress—for thy sake! Come, it's worth a guinea! There's many a folk hereabouts would gi' five, to see what I saw t'other day, down to Omberley wood."

Edith started in a new terror, while her face flushed scarlet and her head swam round. Santley winced, but preserving his composure, looked fixedly and sternly at the outcast.

"You're a bold hussy," he said, between his set teeth, "as bold as bad. But take care! Do you know that if I only say one word, I can have you up before the magistrates and sent back to prison?"

"What for?" snarled the girl.

"For vagrancy, begging, and threatening a lady on the roadside!"

"A pretty lady. And I bean't begging, neither. Well, send me to prison, and when I'm up before the magistrates, I'll tell'em why you were down upon me. Come!"

Santley was about to reply angrily, when Edith interposed. Trembling and almost fainting, she had taken out her purse.

"Here is some money," she cried; "give it to her and let her go!"

"She does not deserve a farthing," exclaimed Santley. "Still, if you wish it——"

"Yes, yes! I—I am sorry for her."

Santley opened the purse, and took out a sovereign.

"If I give you this, will you promise to go out of the parish?"

"Maybe."

"And to conduct yourself properly—to turn over a new leaf?"

Sal grinned viciously from ear to ear.

"I take example by you, master, and your young lady there! Leastways, if I do go a-larking I'll be like you gentry, and say naught about it. There, gi' me the guinea! Stop, though, make it two, and I'll go away out o' Omberley this very night."

Santley and Edith rapidly exchanged a look, and a second piece of gold was at once added to the first. Then, after giving Sal a few words of solemn warning, in his priestly character, Santley walked away with Edith. The pariah girl watched them until they disappeared; then, with a low laugh, she rejoined her companion, a one-eyed and middle-aged gipsy, who, during the preceding scene, had phlegmatically stretched himself on his back, along the roadside.