‘O, my young master!’ cried the man—‘O, my young master! To see you home again, and to this!’
Brion looked at him, with hardly less emotion.
‘Why, Nol,’ he said—‘Nol! Methought you could not all have deserted me.’
Then, conscious of the listening throng, he bade the poor good creature to rise, and follow him into the house.
‘Now,’ said he, when they were all shut away into privacy: ‘here at least is one witness that I need, and that will bring light to my beclouded soul.’ Then, seeing the porter’s inflamed eyes fixed in bewilderment on Joan: ‘Ay, lad,’ he said; ‘it is a dear bride I have brought home with me, and had thought to commit to all your love and service. But that is done.’
And that opened the floodgates.
‘God bless her sweet face!’ bellowed Nol; and then, in vociferous outcry: ‘O, my pretty mistress, here be a home-coming indeed for ’ee!’
He had only just heard the news, it seemed, and had been about to run all the way to the Grange to verify it, when he had caught sight of his young master. And so, after a little, they reached the subject of all, and Brion learned what there was to learn of the happenings of the last six months—of his Uncle’s violent death, and of the machinations which had preceded and followed it.
‘A was a villain rogue, that Melton,’ cried Nol, ‘so to corrupt his Honour’s mind.’
‘To corrupt,’ said Brion sadly. ‘Ah, Nol! What were my orders?’