“Come along with us, sir, and we’ll show you,” said Burdock.

“Are you going there?”

“Well, that’s pretty clear.”

“Hillford men, are you?”

“We’ve left the women behind.”

“I’m in a hurry, so, good night.”

“And so are we in a hurry, sir.  But, you’re a gentleman, and we want to give them chaps at Ipley a little surprise, d’ye see, in the way of a dollop o’ music:  and if you won’t go givin’ ’em warning, you may trot; and that road’ll take you.”

“All right,” said Wilfrid, now fairly divided between his jealousy of Gambier and anxiety for Emilia.

Could her artist nature, of which he had heard perplexing talk, excuse her and make her heart absolutely guiltless (what he called ’innocent’), in trusting herself to any man’s honour?  I regret to say that the dainty adorers of the sex are even thus grossly suspicious of all women when their sentiment is ever so triflingly offended.

Lights on Ipley Common were seen from a rise of the hilly road.  The moon was climbing through drifts of torn black cloud.  Hastening his pace, for a double reason now, Wilfrid had the booth within hearing, listened a moment; and then stood fast.  His unconscious gasp of the words:  “Thank God; there she is!” might have betrayed him to another.

She was sitting near one end of the booth, singing as Wilfrid had never yet heard her sing:  her dark eyes flashing.  Behind her stood Captain Gambier, keeping guard with all the composure of a gentleman-usher at a royal presentation.  Along the tables, men and women were ranged facing her; open-mouthed, some of them but for the most part wearing a predetermined expression of applausive judgement, as who should say, “Queer, but good.”  They gave Emilia their faces, which was all she wanted! and silence, save for an intermingling soft snore, here and there, the elfin trumpet of silence.  To tell truth, certain heads had bowed low to the majesty of beer, and were down on the table between sprawling doubled arms.  No essay on the power of beer could exhibit it more convincingly than, the happy indifference with which they received admonishing blows from quart-pots, salutes from hot pipe-bowls, pricks from pipe-ends, on nose, and cheek, and pate; as if to vindicate for their beloved beverage a right to rank with that old classic drink wherewith the fairest of women vanquished human ills.  The majority, however, had been snatched out of this bliss by the intrusion of their wives, who sat beside them like Consciences in petticoats; and it must be said that Emilia was in favour with the married men, for one reason, because she gave these broad-ribboned ladies a good excuse for allowing their lords to stop where they were so comfortable, a continually-extending five minutes longer.