CHAPTER XI.
'Take the chaise down to the inn,' said the squire.
'That is advisable,' said Dr. Cruden. 'I never bring a servant here.'
'I haven't seen poor Shady for a long time,' said the squire. 'He's a good fellow, but has lived so long alone that strange faces would scare him; and as to horses, I would not trust one in such a miserable wilderness of starvation for the world. How are we to get in? In my time we went in and out at the front door like other folks; the last time I came, you took me through the little door in the tower.'
'I think it would be more prudent if we entered the kitchen way—Sir Valary is less likely to hear us;' for the doctor knew perfectly well that when the squire meant to be exceedingly quiet he carried a considerable amount of bustle, which seemed as necessary to him as his breath.
'All right; we might have a worse place than the kitchen at breakfast-time, and I should think we must all of us be pretty nearly ready for a second. What a miserable place it is!' he continued, as they entered the courtyard; 'doesn't it look as if it had had the nightmare for the last fifty years? Well, stone walls are not worth crying about; but I can't say this is a very promising introduction to the home of your ancestors, Eu.'
Mrs. Gillies, who had seen their advance, met them, making her lowest curtsey to the squire, for whom, in common with all, she entertained a hearty regard.
'What! you haven't forgotten me then!' he said good-humouredly.
'Forgotten you, sir!' was the reply. A few questions put them in possession of all they wanted to know concerning Sir Valary, and of more than they expected in respect of Bloodworth's opportune visit.