They were equal to the occasion; at first they knew nothing of the matter, and, with injured innocence, invited a full inspection.
The invitation was accepted.
Then, all of a sudden, one of the women affected to be struck with an idea. “It is the young gentleman who wanted to join us in Cambridgeshire.”
Then all their throats opened at once. “Yes, gentleman, there was a lovely young gentleman wanted to come with us; but we wouldn't have him. What could we do with him?”
Sir Charles left them under surveillance, and continued his researches, telegraphing Lady Bassett twice every day.
A dark stranger came into Huntercombe village, no longer young, but still a striking figure: had once, no doubt, been superlatively handsome. Even now, his long hair was black and his eye could glitter: but his life had impregnated his noble features with hardness and meanness; his large black eye was restless, keen, and servile: an excellent figure for a painter, though; born in Spain, he was not afraid of color, had a red cap on his snaky black hair, and a striped waistcoat.
He inquired for Mr. Meyrick's farm.
He soon found his way thither, and asked for Mrs. Meyrick.
The female servant who opened the door ran her eye up and down him, and said, bruskly, “What do you want with her, my man? because she is busy.”
“Oh, she will see me, miss.”