"I don't know," rejoined Fred mournfully, "until her uncle dies, perhaps."
"Then let us hope he'll fly once too often," said Dan cheerfully; "but do not be downhearted. I am sure it will be all right. I shall dance at your wedding and you will dance at mine. By the way, there's no necessity to talk to Vincent or his niece about our endeavors to spot this gang."
"Of course not. The matter won't be mentioned. All I am talking about is private, and you come to Sheepeak with me to get a machine so as to win the London to York race. It will be an advertisement for Vincent." "That's all right. And Mildred--talk about her, old man. I know you are dying to explain the kind of angel she really is. Lull me to sleep with lover's rhapsodies"--a request, with which Freddy, now having broken the ice, was perfectly willing to comply. He described Mildred's appearance with a lover's wealth of details, drew attention to her many admirable qualities, quoted her speeches, praised her talents, and thus entertained his friend--and incidentally himself--all the way to Thawley. Dan closed his eyes and listened, puffing comfortably at his pipe. Occasionally he threw in a word, but for the greater part of the time held his peace, and let Laurance babble on about his darling's perfections. Secretly, Dan did not think these could match Lillian's in any way. At the great manufacturing town of Thawley, which was overshadowed by a cloud of dun smoke, the travellers left the main line, and crossed to another platform where they boarded the local train to Beswick. This station was only six miles down the line, and they turned on their tracks to reach it, since it branched off from the main artery into the wilds. It nestled at the foot of a lofty hill covered from top to bottom with trees, now more or less leafless. Laurance informed his companion that there was a ruined abbey hidden in the wood, and also pointed out several interesting places, for he was well acquainted with the locality. At Beswick they piled their bags on a ramshackle old trap, and proceeded in this to climb up a long, winding, steep road, which mounted gradually to the moors. As the year was yet wintry and the hour was late, the air became wonderfully keen, and--as Freddy said--inspiriting. Dan, however, did not find it so, as he felt quite sleepy, and yawned the whole way until the trap stopped at the solitary hotel of Sheepeak, a rough stone house, with thick walls and a slate roof. The landlady, raw-boned, sharp-eyed, and not at all beautiful, met them at the door, smiling in what was meant for an amiable manner when she saw Laurance. "Oh, you're here again?" she said defiantly, and Dan noticed that beyond the Northern burr she did not reproduce the country dialect. "Yes, Mrs. Pelgrin, and I have brought a friend to stay three or four days. We want two bedrooms and a sitting-room, and supper straight away."
"You shall have them," said Mrs. Pelgrin, still defiantly. "And the price will be a pound each for the four days," ventured Freddy. "With ten shillings extra for the sitting-room," said Mrs. Pelgrin, fiercely. "Oh, come now."
"I'll not take you in for less." "Well," put in Dan, shrugging, "sooner than stand here in the cold and argue, I shall pay the extra ten shillings."
"Cold, do you call it? Cold!" Mrs. Pelgrin's tone was one of scorn. "Ha, cold!" and she led the way through a flagged stone passage to a large and comfortable room at the back of the house. "Will this suit you?"
"That's all right, Mrs. Pelgrin," said Freddy, throwing himself down on a slippery horse-hair sofa--"and supper?"
"You'll have it when it's ready, no sooner and no later," barked the ogress, leaving the room. "Cold is it?" and she laughed hoarsely. "I say, Freddy," observed Halliday in a lazy tone, "why is the good lady so very savage?"
"She isn't, Mrs. Pelgrin is quite fond of me. I've stayed here often."
"Fond of you?" echoed Dan, with a chuckle. "Good Lord, how does she speak to those she isn't fond of?"