"Why shouldn't I have gone there?" asked Pope, with a snarl, and his freckled face grew red.
"I don't think Mr. Herries would try to escape in that way."
Pope cooled down, and re-lighted his cheap cigarette.
"Well, he didn't go that way, although I hunted all along the banks," he said. "Have you any idea of where he has gone, Elspeth?"
"If I had, I shouldn't tell you, Pope."
"You must, you are only my mother's servant."
"That is not true, Pope," said the girl, but her eyes flashed angrily as she turned on him sharply. "Mr. Gowrie brought me here a year ago, and as he could not pay for his board and lodging he left me in pawn, so to speak, to your mother. I have been a drudge ever since."
"Well, and what is a drudge but a servant," snapped Pope, cowering over the fire to warm his lean hands. "Is Mr. Gowrie any relation to you, Elspeth?"
"Yes," she replied with an averted face, "don't ask questions."
"I want to know what your last name is?"