Jack! Many's the good draught of malt he has drawn for me in his father's tap-room!"

"Peace, you fool!" cried Tom; "don't talk so loud, or the thing will get wind in the village, and we shall get torn to pieces. Hush! there is someone behind the hedge."

Then they walked on in silence for some time, and on the way I was once more hoisted on to the shoulders of Bill.

"Oh, you beggar, what a weight you be!" said Bill, addressing me. "Well, we're paid for it, so I suppose I must carry you," and off we trudged again.

"This is the way to Dr. Slasher's house," said Tom. "I see a light in the windows; he is awaiting us."

"Well," said Bill, "we've been pretty punctual. It is not much past twelve o'clock. Here we are at last."

The two men stopped, and one threw some earth against the doctor's window. The next moment I heard footsteps within, and the door was opened noiselessly.

"Hush!" said the doctor's voice.

The two men entered the house, when I was taken out of my sack and deposited upon a table in the doctor's study. It was the same doctor who had attended me during my illness.

"Fine specimen, sir," said Bill, "and tough work enough we've had to get him, neither; the ground's as hard as a brick-bat."

"Ah!" said the doctor, abstractedly, feeling me all over.

"Yes, sir," said the other; "and how heavy he be too!"

"Humph!" said the doctor.

"It is a bitter cold night," said Bill. "The wind howled among the trees while we was at work enough to make one's blood curdle."

"Ha!" said the doctor; "I know what that means. A glass of grog wouldn't be unacceptable, unless I mistake."

"Well, sir, you've just guessed about right," said Bill. "A glass of grog now and then, just to keep out the cold is a very fine thing, as you, being a doctor, sir, I've no doubt are well aware."

"Ha! ha!" laughed the doctor. "I perceive you understand the theory of the circulation of the blood. Well, as you have 

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