Durgo looked disappointed, and seemed inclined to force his will. But after a frowning pause, he waved his hands rapidly, and spoke with great sharpness.
"Come back," he said briefly, and after a moment or so, the old woman opened her eyes quietly. Her gaze met the angry one of Durgo, and she winced.
"Have I not pleased you, master?" she asked, timidly.
"Yes. You have pleased me. But I wish you could have learned more."
"What did I say?" asked Granny, wonderingly.
"Never mind. Here"—Durgo produced a small canvas bag from his pocket—"this is the money you have earned."
Mrs. Tunks hastily untied the mouth of the bag, and poured a glittering stream of gold into her lap. "Fifty sovereigns, lovey," she mumbled, her eyes glowing with avaricious delight. "Thank you, master; oh, thank you."
"In an hour," said Durgo, indifferent to her thanks, "I shall send you a small bottle containing a draught, which you can give to your grandson. It will put him right; but of course a few days will elapse before he can get quite strong again. This place"—he glanced disparagingly round the dingy hut—"is not healthy."
"So I thought, master. And to-night Luke is going to my sister's caravan. It's on the road outside Marshely, and the gel can take him there. If Luke has a month or two of the open road, he'll soon be himself again. Anything more I can tell you, master?"
"No. But to-night I am coming here, shortly after moonrise. Get rid of your grandson beforehand, if you can."