“Hey-day!” cried Parson Langney, as soon as the young man entered, “what’s this thou hast been about, Harry, to disturb thy sweetheart’s peace as thou hast done?”
“I disturb her peace!” exclaimed Tregenna. “Nay, sir, I know not. I parted with her but last night the best of friends, as indeed you very well know, since it was here I passed the evening!”
“Well, she’s taken herself away, this morning, to her aunt’s at Hastings, and charged me not to tell you how to find the house.”
“But, sir, how know you that I am the cause of this freak?”
“Aye freak you may well call it, as indeed I told her myself. But she is as stubborn and as proud as can be on this matter, and all she would say was that no man was worth a thought, save her old father, and she begged me give her a few days away, to collect herself, ere she wrote to tell you you must see her no more!”
The lieutenant, whose limbs were shaking very much, sat down quietly, with his head spinning round. What cause of offense he could have given Joan, to induce her to treat him in this apparently heartless manner, he had not the remotest notion. The parson easily perceived how bewildered he was, and presently he said—
“’Twas after a visit from poor Gardener Tom, who came to the door after breakfast this morning, that she flew into so great a passion. She would not tell me what he said, save that no man was to be trusted by any woman. Does that give you any clue to her behavior?”
“Gardener Tom!” echoed Tregenna, at first without an idea as to any connection between the smuggler’s visit and Joan’s abrupt departure.
“Had it naught to do with your conduct towards another woman, think you?” suggested Parson Langney, watching him with keen eyes. “It was at the same time that Tom told us of the death of poor Ann Price.”
At the mention of the name Tregenna started up.