"You knew I'd come, sir, didn't you?" she said, appealing to me more with
her pretty anxious face than by her words.
"Of course, ghostie!" I replied promptly.
"Thank you, sir!" she said, with evident relief. At a trace of doubt in
my words or face, she would have broken down.
"Don't be a goose, ghostie," said I. "Sit down and get warm! And how are
you. Job? Much obliged to you both."
"We'n ridden main hard to get here, sir. Your mon didna get t'our 'ouse
afore one o'clock, an' we wor on the way afore ha'f-past. Gom! We wor
that'n. Our Nance nearly bust. Gom, she did that'n."
"Your Nance is a darling," said I, stroking her disordered hair.
At my request backed by a promise to turn the crown into half a guinea,
the butler got them some breakfast. Fortunately the Squire and the parson
were due at a duck-shooting ten miles off by seven o'clock, and so were
stirring early. My matter was soon settled. The Squire sat magisterially
in his elbow-chair, and Nance and her father told their tale, precisely as
I had told it before them. It cleared me and made the thief-catchers look
mightily confused and sheepish, and very relieved they were when, as a
politic way of staving off awkward questions, I grandly accepted their
apologies.
Pages:
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393
394
395
396
397
398
399
400
401
402
403