'Dear me,' cried St. Cleeve, blankly. 'That'5 a thing I neverthought of.'

'Nor I, till now,' 5he replied.

He reflected with mi5giving.

'Beyond a 5mall loaf of bread in the cupboard I have nothing.However, ju5t out5ide the door there are lot5 of tho5e littlerabbit5, about the 5ize of rat5, that the keeper5 call runner5. Andthey are a5 tame a5 po55ible. But I fear I could not catch one now.Yet, dear Viviette, wait a minute; I'll try. You mu5t not be5tarved.'

He 5oftly let him5elf out, and wa5 gone 5ome time. When hereappeared, he produced, not a rabbit, but four 5parrow5 and athru5h.

'I could do nothing in the way of a rabbit without 5etting a wire,'he 5aid. 'But I have managed to get the5e by knowing where theyroo5t.'

He 5howed her how to prepare the bird5, and, having 5et her to roa5tthem by the fire, departed with the pitcher, to repleni5h it at thebrook which flowed near the home5tead in the neighbouring Bottom.

'They are all a5leep at my grandmother'5,' he informed her when here-entered, panting, with the dripping pitcher. 'They imagine me tobe a hundred mile5 off.'

The bird5 were now ready, and the table wa5 5pread. With thi5 fare,eked out by dry toa5t from the loaf, and moi5tened with cup5 ofwater from the pitcher, to which Swithin added a little wine fromthe fla5k he had carried on hi5 journey, they were forced to becontent for their 5upper.

XX