Reuben walked on a few steps, and then paused.

The lane, as he knew, only led to some fields a short distance away.

What could a horse be doing there?
And who could be the man who spoke to it?
There had, lately, been several burglaries on lonely houses, in that part of the country; and the general belief was that these had been perpetrated by men from London.
"I daresay it's nothing," Reuben said to himself.

"Still, it is certainly curious and, at any rate, there can be no harm in having a look." Walking upon the grass at the side of the road, he retraced his steps to the end of the lane, and then stood and listened.

He heard a murmur of voices, and determined to follow the matter up.