“Oh, yes, I shall. They smoked all the time in the kitchen, at the ‘Barley Mow.’ ”
“The ‘Barley Mow,’ eh? How did you get there?”
Freda told him the whole story of her journey, her sojourn at the inn, the mysterious character they gave her father.
When she mentioned her friend who was connected with the government, Crispin grew very attentive, and asked for a minute description of him, at the end of which he said: “The scoundrel! That’s the fellow who was sneaking about here this afternoon. If I’d guessed——”
He did not finish his sentence, but he looked so black that Freda hastened to get off the unpleasant subject, and rushed into a description of her adventures at Oldcastle Farm. This, however, proved even less pleasing. Crispin listened with a frown on his face to her account of the kindness of the Heritages, and at last broke out into open impatience.
“Mind,” said he sharply, “if those two young cubs come carnying about here while I’m away—as they will do, my word on it—you are not to let them inside the door on any pretence, remember that.”
“I wouldn’t let Robert in,” said Freda decidedly.
“No, nor Dick, either.”
“I should let Dick in,” said Freda softly.
Crispin sat back in his chair to look at her face, and perceived upon it a rosy red flush.