“Who is it? You, Mr Mark, sir?”
“Yes. Jump up.”
“Where did you hear ’em?” said the man. “In the long coppice, or down by the ten acres?”
“Hear whom?” said Mark.
“Oh, I beg your pardon, sir. I was dreaming that I was at home and that you had come to tell me that you had heard poachers. All right, sir,” said the man, creeping into the shadow after getting his rifle. “You’ve got the fire going, then?”
“Yes, but you had better throw on another armful soon.”
“Oh, yes, sir; all right. All been quiet?”
“Yes, except that howling brute; but I haven’t heard him for the last hour. You are quite awake, aren’t you?”
“Awake, sir? Oh, yes,” said the man, shouldering his piece and walking beside his young master to the other waggon.
“Good-night,” said Mark. “I can hardly keep my eyes open now.”