I went round the end of the gallery wing, just to satisfy myself that Jimmy had got away with the ladder, and then I struck across the plantation in the direction of the village. The June day was breaking before I turned out of the woods into the high road, and already the mowers were out and tramping to their work. But in the porchway of the village inn—called the "Well-diggers' Arms"— whatever they may be—I surprised a cockneyfied groom in the act of kissing a maiden who, having a milk-pail in either hand, could not be expected to resist.
"H'm," said I to the man, "I am sorry to appear inopportunely, but I have a message for your master."
The maiden fled. "And who the doose may you be?" asked the groom, eyeing me up and down.
"I think," I answered, "it will be enough for you that I come from Nanscarne. You were late there. Oh, yes," I went on sharply, for fellows of this class have a knack of irritating me, "and I have a message for your master which I'll trouble you to deliver when he comes down to breakfast. You will tell him, if you please, that Sir Harry was expecting him last night, and the lights he saw lit in the long gallery were there for his reception. You won't forget?"
"Who sent you here?" the fellow asked.
"On second thoughts," I continued, "you had better go in and wake Captain Fitzroy Pilkington up at once. He will pardon you when he has my message, for Sir Harry's temper is notoriously impatient."
And with that I turned and left him, for it was high time to find out how Jimmy had been faring. The past night's experience must have given him a shock, and I reckoned to give him another. I wasn't disappointed either. I walked leisurably down the village street, then crossed the hedge and doubled back on the high moors. At length, drawing near the old gravel-pit, where we had fixed to meet in case of separation, I dropped on all-fours and so came up to the edge and gave a whistle.
Jimmy was sitting with his back to me, and about to cut a hunch of bread to eat with his cold bacon for breakfast. Instead, he cut his thumb, and jumped up, singing out—
"S'help me, but I never looked to see you again outside o' the dock!"
"No more you did," said I; and climbing down and sitting on a gravel-heap beside him, I told him all the story.