Chapter Twenty One.
Johnston at Fault.
Eustace Ingelow sat in the summer-house at the back of the Rectory garden smoking his after-breakfast pipe, and with him his youngest sister, Sophie, doing some needlework.
They were discussing a letter which the former had received from the absent Roland, also an eventuality concerning Johnston, the Cranston gardener, and the bite he had received from Roy.
“Do you think that abominable fellow really intends to bring an action against him?” the girl was saying.
“He does. He says he’s lamed for life. It’s an arrant lie, of course, on a par with that one about going into the coach-house to fetch a broom and Roy flying at him. However, he won’t get Dorrien’s whereabouts out of me, and I’m rather certain no one else knows it.”
The fact was, that Johnston, seeing a good opportunity, in the mishap which had befallen him, of being revenged on Roy and his master, and withal extracting from the latter’s pocket considerable compensation, had complained to his employer in the first instance. But to his surprise the General curtly and fiercely refused to listen to him, and the man, seeing that another word on the subject would gravely imperil his place, and not to be baulked, resolved to bring an action for damages against the dethroned heir.
Sophie plied her needle thoughtfully for a few moments. Then she looked up.
“Eusty, does Ro—er—Mr Dorrien, say anything about coming back?”