The motive of his return was shown by his helping himself to a cut piece of skimmer-cake that lay on a ledge beside where he had sat, and which he had apparently forgotten to take with him.
He also poured out half a cup more mead from the quantity that remained, ravenously eating and drinking these as he stood.

He had not finished when another figure came in just as quietly--his friend in cinder-gray.
'O--you here ?' said the latter, smiling.

'I thought you had gone to help in the capture.' And this speaker also revealed the object of his return by looking solicitously round for the fascinating mug of old mead.
'And I thought you had gone,' said the other, continuing his skimmer-cake with some effort.
'Well, on second thoughts, I felt there were enough without me,' said the first confidentially, 'and such a night as it is, too.

Besides, 'tis the business o' the Government to take care of its criminals--not mine.' 'True; so it is.

And I felt as you did, that there were enough without me.' 'I don't want to break my limbs running over the humps and hollows of this wild country.' 'Nor I neither, between you and me.' 'These shepherd-people are used to it--simple-minded souls, you know, stirred up to anything in a moment.