"What will Hilary Woodrow do when he leaves my place?" asked Weekes.
"Don't know no more than you," answered the other.
They went to the house of Billy Long, and found that Sarah Jane had left it an hour before.
"She's half-way home now, no doubt," said Prout. "Well, I'll be going, Jarratt. I'll tell her you want to see her."
"And tell her unbeknownst to her husband, please. There's no harm brewed, I need not tell you that; but he's a peppery chap and his temper sometimes obscures his wits."
"It does. He talks of going away now."
"Going away! I hadn't heard that."
Mr. Prout proceeded. Then an idea struck Jarratt.
"You'm weary—see here; if we cross my orchard, behind the cottage, you'll save more than a quarter of a mile. 'Tis trespassing, so long as Woodrow rents the place, but he'll pardon the owner; anyway, he'll pardon you."
"Anything to save a few yards. I'd ask master for a shakedown here, but they'd be frighted out of their wits at Ruddyford if I didn't come back."