“There’s a pretty sight,” he said.  “There are the innocent sheep a-feeding—­all following each other as usual.  And there’s the sly dog waiting behind the gate till the sheep wants his services.  Reminds me of Old Sharon and the public!” He chuckled over the discovery of the remarkable similarity between the sheep-dog and himself, and the sheep and the public—­and then burst upon Isabel with a second question.  “I say! didn’t you look at the letter before you sealed it?”

“Certainly not!” Isabel answered.

“Not even at the address?”

“No!”

“Thinking of something else—­eh?”

“Very likely,” said Isabel.

“Was it your new bonnet, my dear?”

Isabel laughed.  “Women are not always thinking of their new bonnets,” she answered.

Old Sharon, to all appearance, dropped the subject there.  He lifted his lean brown forefinger and pointed again—­this time to a house at a short distance from them.  “That’s a farmhouse, surely?” he said.  “I’m thirsty after my roll down the hill.  Do you think, Miss, they would give me a drink of milk?”

“I am sure they would,” said Isabel.  “I know the people.  Shall I go and ask them?”

“Thank you, my dear.  One word more before you go.  About the sealing of that letter?  What could you have been thinking of while you were doing it?” He looked hard at her, and took her suddenly by the arm.  “Was it your sweetheart?” he asked, in a whisper.

The question instantly reminded Isabel that she had been thinking of Hardyman while she sealed the letter.  She blushed as the remembrance crossed her mind.  Robert, noticing the embarrassment, spoke sharply to Old Sharon.  “You have no right to put such a question to a young lady,” he said.  “Be a little more careful for the future.”

“There! there! don’t be hard on me,” pleaded the old rogue.  “An ugly old man like me may make his innocent little joke—­eh, miss?  I’m sure you’re too sweet-tempered to be angry when I meant no offense..  Show me that you bear no malice.  Go, like a forgiving young angel, and ask for the milk.”

Nobody appealed to Isabel’s sweetness of temper in vain.  “I will do it with pleasure,” she said—­and hastened away to the farmhouse.

CHAPTER XIV.

THE instant Isabel was out of hearing, Old Sharon slapped Moody on the shoulder to rouse his attention.  “I’ve got her out of the way,” he said, “now listen to me.  My business with the young angel is done—­I may go back to London.”

Moody looked at him with astonishment.

“Lord! how little you know of thieves!” exclaimed Old Sharon.  “Why, man alive, I have tried her with two plain tests!  If you wanted a proof of her innocence, there it was, as plain as the nose in your face.  Did you hear me ask her how she came to seal the letter—­just when her mind was running on something else?”