Fred thought this very likely—with a reluctant air that seemed to indicate that he knew better, but didn't want to say so.
"Pegg, the other man, tells a different story," he said, and repeated to her some of the things that had been said by Coombe about her father, which made her blush hot with resentment. "Did Norman talk to him?" she asked.
"Yes."
"And did he tell him that?"
"Well, no, he didn't."
"Why not? Do tell me everything." She was becoming impatient over his hesitations.
He plumped it out: "Because he saw that it wouldn't be well received. These men know on which side their bread's buttered, and they are not going to give themselves away. Even Old Jackson—he's working for your father now, and hopes to be kept on, but he doesn't want to offend Sir William. None of them do. Pegg hopes to be kept on here too, I think, and he doesn't mind giving Coombe away, but he isn't going to give him away to Norman. That's how it is, and it's no good hiding it. I don't know what Norman really wants, but it's quite plain what these men think he wants, and that's to back up his side of the quarrel. Everybody knows there is a quarrel now, and nearly everybody is on our side. I've found that out. I think you must leave Norman out of it, if you're to do any good."
She thought this over, but made no reply. "Is Coombe still making mischief?" she asked.
"He's rather frightened, I think, and has kept his mouth shut lately; but everybody knows that he would do Colonel Eldridge any injury that he could. They think he ought to be got rid of. He's a bad influence in the place."