He sat down by the fire. But, the moment she retired, he got up and made a circuit of the house, looking quietly into every window, to see if he could catch a glance of Griffith Gaunt.
There were no signs of him; and Sir George returned to his parlor heavy-hearted. One hope, the greatest of all, had been defeated directly. Still, it was just possible that Griffith might be away on temporary business.
In this faint hope, Sir George strolled about till his supper was ready for him.
When he had eaten his supper, he rang the bell, and, taking advantage of a common custom, insisted on the landlord, Thomas Leicester, taking a glass with him.
"Thomas Leicester!" said the girl. "He is not at home. But I'll send Master Vint."
Old Vint came in, and readily accepted an invitation to drink his guest's health.
Sir George found him loquacious, and soon extracted from him that his daughter Mercy was Leicester's wife, that Leicester was gone on a journey, and that Mercy was in care for him. "Leastways," said he, "she is very dull, and cries at times when her mother speaks of him; but she is too close to say much."
All this puzzled Sir George Neville sorely.
But greater surprises were in store.
The next morning, after breakfast, the servant came and told him Dame Leicester desired to see him.