"I have not the time to listen," said he, wrenching his arm free as he flung himself into the thick of the crowd. I kept close upon his heels, however, which he perceived, and drawing into a corner he suddenly turned round upon me.
"Your horse is dead," said he. "I very much regret it; but I will pay you, for I have but now come into an inheritance. I will pay you for it to-morrow."
"I did not follow you to speak of the horse, or to Mr. Featherstone at all, but to Mr. Cullen Mayle."
"You know me?" he exclaimed, looking about him lest the name should have been overheard.
"And have news for you," I added. "Will you follow me to the 'Dolphin?'"
I went back to the inn, secured from my host a room where we could be private, and went out to the door. Cullen Mayle was waiting; he followed me quickly in, hiding his face so that no one could recognise him, and when the door was shut--
"How in the world did you come to know of my name?" said he. "I cannot think, but I shall be obliged if you will keep it secret for a day or so, for I am not sure but what I may have some inconvenient friends among these islands."
"Those inconvenient friends are all gone but one," said I.
"You know that too," he exclaimed. "Indeed, Mr. Berkeley, you seem to be very well acquainted with my affairs; but I cannot regret it, since you give me such comforting news. Only one of my inconvenient friends left! Why, I am a match for one--I think I may say so without vaunting--so it seems I can come to Tresco and take up my inheritance."
With that he began briskly to unhook the cotton dress which he had put on over his ordinary clothes.