The interruption to Afy’s chickens was caused by Mr. Ebenezer James.  That gentleman, who had been walking with quick steps to overtake her, gave her flounces a twitch behind, to let her know somebody had come up.

“How are you, Afy?  I was going after you to Mrs. Latimer’s, not knowing but you had returned home.  I saw you this morning at Miss Corny’s windows.”

“Now, I don’t want any of your sauce, Ebenezer James.  Afy-ing me!  The other day, when you were on with your nonsense, I said you should keep your distance.  You took and told Mr. Jiffin that I was an old sweetheart of yours.  I heard of it.”

“So you were,” laughed Mr. Ebenezer.

“I never was,” flashed Afy.  “I was the company of your betters in those days:  and if there had been no betters in the case, I should have scorned you.  Why! you have been a strolling player!”

“And what have you been?” returned Mr. Ebenezer, a quiet tone of meaning running through his good-humored laughter.

Afy’s cheeks flushed scarlet, and she raised her hand with a quick, menacing gesture.  But that they were in the public street Mr. Ebenezer might have found his ears boxed.  Afy dropped her hand again, and made a dead standstill.

“If you think any vile, false insinuations that you may concoct will injure me, you are mistaken, Ebenezer James.  I am too much respected in the place.  So don’t try it on.”

“Why, Afy, what has put you out?  I don’t want to injure you.  Couldn’t do it, if I tried, as you say,” he added, with another quiet laugh.  “I have been in too many scrapes myself to let my tongue bring other folks into one.”

“There, that’s enough.  Just take yourself off.  It’s not over reputable to have you at one’s side in public.”

“Well, I will relieve you of my company, if you’ll let me deliver my commission.  Though, as to ’reputable’—­however, I won’t put you out further.  You are wanted at the justice-room at three o’clock this afternoon.  And don’t fail, please.”

“Wanted at the justice-room!” retorted Afy.  “I!  What for?”

“And must not fail, as I say,” repeated Mr. Ebenezer.  “You saw Levison taken up—­your old flame——­”

Afy stamped her foot in indignant interruption.  “Take care what you say, Ebenezer James!  Flame!  He?  I’ll have you put up for defamation of character.”

“Don’t be a goose, Afy.  It’s of no use riding the high horse with me.  You know where I saw you—­and saw him.  People here said you were with Dick Hare; I could have told them better; but I did not.  It was no affair of mine, that I should proclaim it, neither is it now.  Levison alias Thorn is taken up for your father’s murder, and you are wanted to give evidence.  There! that’s your subpoena; Ball thought you would not come without one.”

“I will never give evidence against Levison,” she uttered, tearing the subpoena to pieces, and scattering them in the street.  “I swear I won’t.  There, for you!  Will I help to hang an innocent man, when it was Dick Hare who was the guilty one?  No!  I’ll walk myself off a hundred miles away first, and stop in hiding till it’s over.  I shan’t forget this turn that you have chosen to play me, Ebenezer James.”