`Amble on upon the grass,' said Coggan.

The white bars were blotted out in the midst by a dark shape in front of them. The silence of this lonely time was pierced by an exclamation from that quarter.

`Hoy-a-hoy! Gate!'

It appeared that there had been a previous call which they had not noticed, for on their close approach the door of the turnpike-house opened, and the keeper came out half-dressed, with a candle in his hand. The rays illumined the whole group.

`Keep the gate close!' shouted Gabriel. `He has stolen the horse!'

`Who?' said the turnpike-man.

Gabriel looked at the driver of the gig, and saw a woman - Bathsheba, his mistress.

On hearing his voice she had turned her face away from the light. Coggan had, however, caught sight of her in the meanwhile.

`Why, 'tis mistress - I'll take my oath!' he said, amazed.

Bathsheba it certainly was, and she had by this time done the trick she could do so well in crises not of love, namely, mask a surprise by coolness of manner.

`Well, Gabriel,' she inquired quietly, `where are you going?'

`We thought--' began Gabriel.

`I am driving to Bath,' she said, taking for her own use the assurance that Gabriel lacked. `An important matter made it necessary for me to give up my visit to Liddy, and go off at once. What, then, were you following me?'

`We thought the horse was stole.'

`Well - what a thing! How very foolish of you not to know that I had taken the trap and horse. I could neither wake Maryann nor get into the house, though I hammered for ten minutes against her window- sill.

Fortunately, I could get the key of the coach-house, so I troubled no one farther. Didn't you think it might be me?'

`Why should we, miss?'

`Perhaps not. Why, those are never Farmer Boldwood's horses! Goodness merry! what have you been doing - bringing trouble upon me in this way? What! mustn't a lady move an inch from her door without being dogged like a thief?'

`But how was we to know, if you left no account of your doings?' expostulated Coggan, `and ladies don't drive at these hours, miss, as a jineral rule of society.

`I did leave an account - and you would have seen it in the morning. I wrote in chalk on the coach-house doors that I had come back for the horse and gig, and driven off; that I could arouse nobody, and should return soon.

`But you'll consider, ma'am, that we couldn't see that till it got daylight.'