“Oh, yes,” said Freda slowly, struggling with her sleepy senses. “He has quarrelled with your cousin, and so you’re afraid he’ll buy what he wants not from you but from Josiah Kemm.”
Both her hearers started violently, and Freda perceived that she had let out something he had not known.
“I stayed for an hour at an inn called the ‘Barley Mow,’ ” she explained, “and I heard something there which I think must have had some meaning like that. But perhaps I am wrong. I am tired, confused—I——”
Her voice grew faint and drowsy. Dick glanced at Mrs. Heritage.
“Don’t trouble your head about it to-night,” said he. “You are tired. Aunt, take Miss Mulgrave to her room. Good-night.”
And poor Freda, sleepy, contrite, was hurried off to bed.
Next morning she was down early, but she saw nothing of Dick. The mistress of the house read prayers in a tone of command rather than of supplication; and, as the servants filed out afterwards, she called the butler, and asked:
“What is this I hear about Master Richard’s going off on ‘Roan Mary’ at this time in the morning?”
“It’s a telegram he wants to send to Master Robert; and he has to ride to Pickering because the snow’s broken down the wires on this side,” answered Blewitt sullenly. “I saw the message. It said: ‘He is on with Kemm. Call on your way back.’ ”
Freda caught the name “Kemm.” She felt very uncomfortable, but nobody noticed her, and she was suddenly startled by an outbreak of sobs and moans from Mrs. Heritage, who had begun to pace up and down the room.