“Ho,” said Latimer with a world of meaning, “read it out, my boy.”
“There is no need to read it. I can give you the gist in a few words,” was Fuller’s reply, as he ran his eye rapidly over the lines. “Sorley begs me not to take notice of Miss Grison’s wild words, as she is a trifle mad. He had to dismiss her brother for forging his name to a check, but, as the man was also insane—slightly, that is—he did not prosecute him.”
“Very kind and Christian-like, Alan, But why does Sorley put up with Miss Grison’s vagaries?”
“He declares that he is sorry for her, in this letter.”
“And by word of mouth as good as told you that he hated her. Humph! It seems to me that our dear friend is hedging. Well, and what more, Alan?”
“Nothing more on the subject of Miss Grison, save that he declares his contempt for her threats.”
“Threats. What threats?” Dick sat up alertly.
“She told him in the presence of Marie, and in my presence also, that he was to wait and see how iniquity would be punished.”
“Humph! That looks as though she means to be nasty.”
“Exactly. And Sorley’s cringing to her implies that he guesses she can make things hot for him. However, he simply ends his letter by saying that when I come to Belstone for Christmas he will have a chat with me on the subject of cryptograms. Did I not say, Dick, that his letter illustrates the proverb I referred to. Why should Sorley think it necessary to explain about Miss Grison and her crazy words—if indeed they are crazy—or why should he wish to talk about cryptograms to me, unless——”