These remarks led to an animated triangular conversation over the Grinstun man, in which the two pedestrians gave the detective all the information they possessed regarding that personage.  They urged that an immediate effort should be made to hinder his acquiring the hand and property of Miss Du Plessis, and, thereafter, that united action should be taken to break up his injurious commerce.  Mr. Nash prepared to accompany them on their walk to church in Flanders, and asked the lawyer if he had any objection to ride his horse part of the way, with a bundle behind him, if he, the detective, would carry his knapsack.  Coristine consented, on condition that his new friend would also lend him his riding gaiters.  Madame produced the wherewithal to spend a social half-hour before retiring, and, in answer to the detective, said:  “Ze sack ees in ze commode in ze chombre of M’syae.”  Mr. Nash laughed, and over his glass and clay pipe, confided to his fellow-conspirators that he had a few little properties in that bag, and was much afraid that some of them would compel him to desecrate the Sabbath.  “You are used to my religious performances, Mr Coristine; I hope your friend, and my old principal, Mr. Wilkinson, will not be as hard on me as you were.”

Then the dominie was informed of the events of the evening, and the parties separated for the night.

Sunday morning dawned clear and cloudless, giving promise of a glorious day.  Everybody in the inn was up before six o’clock; for at seven it was the intention of the three guests to take the road for a place of worship in Flanders.  Ben Toner was waiting on the verandah for the appearance of Coristine; and, when that gentleman came out to taste the morning air, greeted him with clumsy effusion, endeavouring, at the same time, to press a two-dollar bill upon his acceptance.  The lawyer declined the money, saying that he had no license to practise, and would, consequently, be liable to a heavy fine should he receive remuneration for his services.  He enquired after Ben’s health, and was pleased to learn that, while his heroic remedies had left the patient “as rayd as a biled lobister,” externally, he was otherwise all right, except for a little stiffness.  Mr. Nash came down-stairs, dressed in a well-fitting suit of tweed, and sporting a moustache and full beard that had grown up as rapidly as Jonah’s gourd.  Going up to the man whom he had confessed the night before, he asked him:  “Do you know me again, Toner?” to which Ben replied:  “You bet your life I do; you’re the curous coon as come smellin’ round my place with a sayrch warnt two weeks ago Friday.”  Satisfied that his identity in Ben’s eye was safe, the detective led him away on to the bridge, and engaged in earnest conversation with him, which made Mr. Toner start, and wriggle, and back down, and impart information confirmatory of that extorted the night before, and give large promises for the future.  The two returned to the verandah, and,