‘Couldn’t make anybody hear!’ exclaimed Jack Portland, starting to his feet; ‘what was the fool about? Why didn’t he knock till he did make some one hear? What was the good of his going, when he only brings me my own note back again?’
‘Well, sir; he did throw stones at the bedroom winders, but no one took no notice of ’im, so Joe, he thought, ’twas no use waiting about there any longer at this time o’ night, so he bringed the note back again, and, perhaps, you’d like me to send it up the first thing in the morning.’
‘No, no,’ replied Jack Portland, angrily; ‘the ostler is a d——d fool for his pains, and you may tell him I said so. Leave the note on the table and leave the room. I wish to be alone!’
‘Are we to shut up, sir? Will the lady come to-night, do you think? The last train was in an hour ago!’
‘Shut up! shut up! Yes! Do anything you like. I don’t care so long as you leave me alone,’ was the reply.
‘Yes, sir; certainly, and what time would you like to be called in the morning, sir?’
‘Oh! go to the devil!’ cried Portland furiously, as the man disappeared, repeating his usual formula of ‘Yes, sir;’ ‘thank you, sir,’ and left him to his disappointment and conjectures.
What could be the matter? Where was Nell? What was she doing? What did she mean? These were the questions that repeated themselves over and over in his brain, and which received no answer till the following morning. He would have his answer then, he thought. He would go up to Panty-cuckoo Farm the very first thing and tell the Llewellyns of his marriage to their daughter, and, if need be, take his wife back with him by force. No power on earth could prevent that. But it was not the sort of honeymoon he had promised himself.
Meanwhile Lord and Lady Ilfracombe were saying to each other, as we have seen before, ‘We will go over to the farm to-morrow morning and say good-bye to Nell, and tell her of all the good things we mean to do for her when she is married,’ and so at last they all slept, the husband and wife locked in each other’s arms—Jack Portland, restlessly, and starting up now and then to remember his disappointment with an oath, and Nell Llewellyn slept also, the sweetest and most peaceful sleep of them all.
She had gone straight home to her parents when she parted with Nora, and had passed a very pleasant evening with them. The old people had been particularly cheerful. Bonnie, the cow, had quite recovered, and was giving her milk as well as ever; and Sir Archibald Bowmant had met the farmer on his way home and intimated to him that he was likely to have a change of landlords.