They called at Thweng as they passed, at Lup’s request, but Brack was not indoors. His doddering old housekeeper, more than anxious to be shut of them and back to the warm kitchen, told them he was out somewhere on the land. Had he left a message for one Lup Whinnerah? Nay, what he’d left a parshel o’ messages for more than one body, and the visitor could take his choice! Ya body was to gang, an’ another body was to bide, an’ there was summat about a motor-car an’ summat else about wool, wi’ a bit o’ the Bible thrown in like, for luck. T’ master’d talk t’ hind leg off a dog, any day, an’ if they could mak’ owt of any on it, they were welcome.
The draught round the door was growing unbearable, so she promptly banged it, and they withdrew, pondering. Brack and his housekeeper seemed much of a piece, and neither of them more than elevenpence in the shilling. The conviction grew upon Lup that the telegram, if not a joke, had at least been the outcome of a mad obsession, and saw himself the laughing-stock of the district. Whether he told or not, the outward circumstances would never be forgotten—how Lup Whinnerah turned tail on Canada at the last minute, and ran home as hard as he could lick. Well, Ladyford at least should have the laugh last. To-night, Denny must see him through. He stumbled thankfully into the warmth of Lockholme, and fell asleep before the fire. Denny, trying to rouse him later, heard him muttering as he slept. “Wait of me!” he was saying. “Mother! Wait!”
After infinite trouble, Hamer got Lanty on the telephone towards one o’clock on that Saturday afternoon. The agent was deep in deeds in some Witham lawyer’s office, and excessively annoyed at being snatched from them. Hamer, at the other end, sounded anxious, and started badly.
Did Lancaster know it was raining?
Lancaster was safely under cover and furiously occupied, and did not care a toss what it was doing outside. Why should Mr. Shaw care—if he did care?
It seemed he did. He recounted Brack’s conversation of the day before—at least, as much of it as Lanty would deign to receive—and found himself cut off before the end of it. After five minutes’ patient waiting, the agent’s voice came back to him, slightly breathless.
“I say, I beg your pardon! Saw a chap out of the window that I mightn’t catch again for a month of Sundays, so I just sprinted. I’m always pressed on Saturday, so you must overlook it. By the way, it’s raining more than a bit, as you say, and I’d no umbrella. But I give you my word it’s not the Day of Judgment or anything of that sort! You don’t know our weather, yet; we’ve had such a fine year. As for Brack, didn’t he strike you as being a little off his chump? I’m rather anxious about him.... Why, no! Hotpot it for all you’re worth! They’ll turn up, you’ll see. There’s nobody minding rain in this district except Brack. Right! Thanks very much. I’ll come over by the Lane. How is Wigmore, this morning? ... That’s good. By the way, Harriet turned in to the Board to-day for the first time. Great doings, I hear! Put the Chairman right on a matter of some cubic feet, and trotted out a point of law that cleared up that supply difficulty like magic, and left them all gaping. All the old hands are saying it’s like old times and John Knewstubb over again. Harriet will shake them up before she’s through!”
Hamer, still worried, observed that there was a wind, and Lancaster groaned.
“My dear sir, it can’t always be summer! We’d do badly if we didn’t get a wind now and then. It’s to be expected, you know. Time o’ year. March.”