“Pray Sir,” said the Corporal after a pause, “if not too bold, has your honour heard how they be doing at Grassdale?”
“No, Bunting; I have not held any correspondence with my uncle since our departure. Once I wrote to him on setting off to Yorkshire, but I could give him no direction to write to me again. The fact is, that I have been so sanguine in this search, and from day to day I have been so led on in tracing a clue, which I fear is now broken, that I have constantly put off writing till I could communicate that certain intelligence which I flattered myself I should be able ere this to procure. However, if we are unsuccessful at Knaresbro’ I shall write from that place a detailed account of our proceedings.”
“And I hopes you will say as how I have given your honour satisfaction.”
“Depend upon that.”
“Thank you Sir, thank you humbly; I would not like the Squire to think I’m ungrateful!—augh,—and mayhap I may have more cause to be grateful by and by, whenever the Squire, God bless him, in consideration of your honour’s good offices, should let me have the bit cottage rent free.”
“A man of the world, Bunting; a man of the world!”
“Your honour’s mighty obleeging,” said the Corporal, putting his hand to his hat; “I wonders,” renewed he, after a short pause, “I wonders how poor neighbour Dealtry is. He was a sufferer last year; I should like to know how Peter be getting on—‘tis a good creature.”
Somewhat surprised at this sudden sympathy on the part of the Corporal, for it was seldom that Bunting expressed kindness for any one, Walter replied,—
“When I write, Bunting, I will not fail to inquire how Peter Dealtry is;—does your kind heart suggest any other message to him?”
“Only to ask arter Jacobina, poor thing; she might get herself into trouble if little Peter fell sick and neglected her like—augh. And I hopes as how Peter airs the bit cottage now and then; but the Squire, God bless him, will see to that, and the tato garden, I’m sure.”