“Lazy Tom's—and the best-hearted fellow in the world. They're going to make him a judge, they say and—”
“—What of—peach brandy? No cream in mine, Todd.”
“No—you scurrilous dog—of the Common Court,” retorted St. George, looking at him over the top of his cup. “Very good lawyer is Tom—got horse sense and can speak the truth—make a very good judge.”
Again Harry laughed—rather a forced laugh this time, as if he were trying to make himself agreeable but with so anxious a ring through it that Todd busied himself about the table before going below for fresh supplies, making excuse of collecting the used dishes. If there were to be any revelations concerning the situation at the Seymour house, he did not intend to miss any part of them.
“Better put Mrs. Coston on the bench and set Tom to rocking the cradle,” said the young man, reaching for the plate of corn pone. “She's a thoroughbred if ever I saw one, and does credit to her blood. But go on—tell me about the birds. Are they flying high?—and the duck blinds; have they fixed them up? They were all going to pot when I was there last.”
“Birds out of range, most of them—hard work getting what I did. As to the blinds, they are still half full of water—got soaking wet trying to use one. I shot most of mine from the boat just as the day broke,” and then followed a full account of what the party had bagged, with details of every day's adventures. This done, St. George pushed back his chair and faced the young man.
“And now you take the witness-stand, sir—look me in the eyes, put your hand on your fob-pocket and tell me the truth. Todd says you have been here every day for a week looking as if you had lost your last fip-penny-bit and wild to see me. What has happened?”
“Todd has a vivid imagination.” He turned in his seat, stretched out his hand, and catching one of the dogs by the nose rubbed his head vigorously.
“Go on—all of it—no dodging the king's counsellor. What's the matter?”
The young man glanced furtively at Todd, grabbed another dog, rubbed their two ears together in play, and in a lowered voice, through which a tinge of sadness was only too apparent, murmured: