He bent his energies to the task of framing a plan, and he believed at last that he had succeeded in forming a scheme which was not susceptible of failure.
While Mr. Chewkle was raving in bed, he quitted Harleydale, to make and perfect arrangements, and having completed them, he returned to the wood to effect, if possible, a secret interview with Flora and carry out his project.
He had been two days on the watch, when Chewkle arrived in the wood from the inn. In the course of that morning they came, during a stealthy stroll, suddenly face to face.
Instantly their eyes met each seemed to feel the other was there for an improper purpose.
“Good mornin’, sir,” exclaimed Chewkle, with a playful nod.
The Colonel eyed him sternly.
“What are you here for?” he asked in a sharp tone.
Chewkle bent a keen glance upon him.
“I have as much right here as him—he’s after no good,” thought he. A rogue detects a rogue pretty-much as a detective does a thief, by the eye; and Chewkle after his inspection felt a little more at ease.
Mires repeated his question.