“But I will take no denial. Where shall I send for your luggage?” inquired Ran.
“We have nothing but hand-bags, sir, and they are in the carryall outside. You see, we came directly from the Chuxton station to this house, and have all we carried in the vehicle with us. We intended to return in it, and to put up at the Red Fox Inn in your village here.”
“But you will do no such thing. You will get your hand-bags out of the carriage, send it back to Chuxton—where the swearing gentleman is waiting, swearing harder than ever, no doubt—and you will remain here with us.”
“What do you say, Juley?” said John Legg, appealing to his wife. “Come, woman, can’t you help a fellow a little?”
“What do you say, Uncle Dandy?” inquired Julia, appealing in turn to her old relative.
“You stop here! Both on you stop! You take Mr. Hay at his word! Ran Hay means every word that he speaks. If he says he wants you to stop here he does want you to stop here! And as he does, you ought to do it to please him as well as yourselves, which you will be sure to do, I know. That’s all I have got to say!”
While Dandy was speaking and his niece and nephew listening, Ran beckoned a footman to follow him, and stepped out of the front door and went up to the driver of the carryall, who stood by the horses’ heads, clapping his thickly gloved hands and stamping his heavily shod feet to keep warm.
“You came from Chuxton?”
“Yes, sir, and been waiting here for more’n an hour for the parties I fotch, and myself near frozen, spite of my piles of clothes and——”
“Charles,” said Hay, turning his head and speaking in a low voice to the footman, “go in and get a large mug of strong ale and bring it out to this man.”