"I'm not coming in!"
"To the gate, then. It isn't three hundred yards from this. I'll lead the way."
Langholm set off at a brisk walk, his heart in his mouth. But the lumbering steps did not gain upon him; a muttered grumbling was their only accompaniment; and in minute they saw the lights. In another minute they were at the wicket.
"You really prefer not to come in?"
There was a sly restrained humor in Langholm's tone.
"I do—and don't be long."
"Oh, no, I shan't be a minute."
There were other lights in the other cottage. It was not at all late. A warm parallelogram appeared and disappeared as Langholm opened his door and went in. Was it a sound of bolts and bars that followed? Abel was still wondering when his prospective paymaster threw up the window and reappeared across the sill.
"It was a three-figured check you had from Mr. Steel, was it?"
"Yes—yes—but not so loud!"