‘They did not know what they were doing.’
Something followed, but he could not understand it. The whisper ended in a sigh, the smiling features quivered. He held her, but was alone.
A hand was laid gently upon his shoulder. Through blinding tears he discerned Mr. Wyvern’s solemn countenance. He resisted the efforts to draw him away, but was at length persuaded.
Early in the evening he fell asleep, lying dressed upon his bed, and the sleep lasted till midnight. Then he left his room, and descended the stairs, for the lower part of the house was still lighted. In the hall Mr. Wyvern met him.
‘Let us go into the library,’ he said to the clergyman. ‘I want to talk to you.’
He had resumed his ordinary manner. Without mention of his mother, he began at once to speak of the rioters.
‘They were led by that man Redgrave; there can be no doubt of that. I shall go to Agworth at once and set the police at work.’
‘I have already done that,’ replied the vicar. ‘Three fellows have been arrested in Agworth.’
‘New Wanley men?’
‘Yes; but Redgrave is not one of them.’