Fred was too much surprised to answer at once, and was rapidly revolving in his mind whether this manner was a mere mask assumed by his uncle. However, after a moment's pause, he answered,—
“Not tired at all, uncle; but I had to run up to town for a day on business. I go down to Cromer to-morrow again.”
“I think you might have told me you were going to be married, Fred.”
“Well, uncle, I hate a fuss about these things, and we were married as quietly as possible; so I thought I would say nothing about it until I could tell you that it was all over.”
“Well, well, every one to his taste, every one to his taste,” Captain Bradshaw said, evidently thinking of something else, and then sat in moody thought.
Fred Bingham looked at him in astonishment. What could this mean? Did his uncle intend to keep him in ignorance of his knowledge of the affair of Carry, or was it possible that he did not know after all—that Stephen Walker had only intended to frighten him, and had not been to Captain Bradshaw at all? This hope was dispelled by the old man's next remark.
“The fact is, Fred, I am out of sorts. I have heard a piece of news which has upset me terribly.”
“Indeed, uncle?” was all Fred could say.
“Yes, Fred, a very bad affair; so bad that I can hardly realise it.”
He paused again.