The doctor arrived in time for dinner, and reported three wounded men instead of one.  Two had pistol wounds that had evidently been attended to from the first, the other had a gunshot in the back, and must have dragged himself a long way after it, for he was almost gone with loss of blood.  “That’ll be the chiel’ puir Nash fired at wi’ Ben’s gun,” said Carruthers.

“Can your wife put me and Fanny up for the night, John?” asked the doctor, looking serious.

“Just delighted to do so,” replied the Squire; “we have more space than we know how to fill.”

“I must tell you why.  These rough fellows at the Encampment are furious, and one of them, in his gratitude, warned me, on no account, to be in or near your house to-night.”

“Doctor, that’s another thing.  I have no right to let you risk yourself and Miss Fanny in time of danger in my house.”

“But we will, John.  Come here, Fanny!” Telling his daughter the circumstances, the doctor asked her decision, and she at once answered:  “Of course, Mr. Carruthers, we shall stay.  Papa has two pistols in his gig, and, if necessary, will lend me one.  I am a good shot, am I not, papa?”

“Yes, John, she has a fine eye and nerve for a mark.”

At the dinner table Doctor Halbert conversed with the pedestrians about the scenery they had passed through, and recommended them, by all means, not to fail in visiting the Flanders’ lakes.  He informed them that they constitued a long and perplexing chain, being more like a long continuous sheet of water, narrowing every here and there into straits, affording little more than room enough for two boats to pass through, than an actual succession of lakes.  To penetrate far in would be dangerous, but his guide had informed him that no visitors to the first three ran any risk of interference.

“By the bye, Miss Cecile,” interrupted the Squire, “some of these lakes are your property, are they not?”

“Yes, Mr. Carruthers,” the lady replied; “but they would be so no longer if a very kind friend had not paid the taxes for them.”

“Hoot toot, lassie, what’s the taxes on a bittock o’ wild land and useless water?”

“I should like above all things to see these lakes,” remarked the dominie.

“Do you know,” said Mr. Perrowne, “for sow long a time as I have been in Flanders, I have never seen the lakes.  One down’t like to gow alowne, you know.”

“I say we go this afternoon,” proposed the lawyer.

“I’m with you, sir,” responded the minister.  “We’ll drop cricket and golf, the day, Perrowne.”  Then in a whisper to Carruthers, “I’m anxious about poor Nash.”

“Then, meenister, see that ye aa tak’ your revolvers and cartridges.  I can supply you and Perrowne.”