“He is sent down—by the government—to look after the smuggling.”
The housekeeper’s face changed, as if a warrant of death had been contained in those words.
“The Lord help him then!” was all she said.
But Freda was so horror-struck at her tone that she sprang up and ran like a hare to the door of the sick man’s room.
“What are you going to do?” asked Nell.
“I don’t know,” sobbed Freda. “But—but I think I ought to put him on his guard.”
“No,” said Nell peremptorily. “Don’t disturb him now. Come here with me; I have something to tell you.”
Fancying from the housekeeper’s manner that an idea for helping John Thurley had occurred to her, Freda allowed herself to be led away to the disused room opposite.
CHAPTER XXVI.
Before the two women had entered the musty, damp-smelling apartment which had once been one of the best bedrooms of the house, the younger began to feel that her companion was unnerved and unstrung. Indeed they were no sooner inside than Mrs. Bean, sinking down on a chair, burst into tears. This was such an unusual sign of weakness in the self-contained housekeeper, that Freda, in alarm, stood for a few moments quite helpless, not knowing what to do. But the kindly womanliness of her nature soon prompted the right action, and putting her arms round Nell’s neck, she clung to her and soothed her with few words but with genuine tenderness.