"'Tis nothing, after all," she said. "But ever since he came back from those years amongst the savages when I had thought him dead a score of times and——"
She broke off to glance swiftly at Juggins' face.
"Who did it! Was it——"
She hesitated, and he answered before she could continue:
"Aye; it was he, granny, or minions hired by him. But enough of that for the present. You have not spoken to our guest. Who think you he is?"
"Whoever he may be, if he helped you in danger, Robert, he is a good lad and we owe him thanks."
She swept me a stately curtsey such as might have graced a court ball at Versailles.
"No, the boot is on the other leg," I protested. "'Tis I who owe gratitude to Master Juggins, for he has taken me in out of the cold and the fog—and worse dangers perhaps."
"Poor young gentleman," she said softly. "For you are gentle, young sir. I did not live my youth in gentlefolks' houses for naught, and I can see gentility when it comes before my eyes, old though they be."
"You have not asked his name," suggested Master Juggins.