“Ye’ll hae to tak’ some ither mode o’ payin’ the debt!” said John. “Stick spaud in yird here, ye sall not! You or I maun flit first!”
With that he walked slowly away, shouldering his hoe.
“Come, Abdiel,” said Clare; “we must go and tell Miss Tempest! Perhaps she’ll find something else for us to do. If she can’t, she’ll forgive us our breakfast, and we’ll be off on the tramp again. I thought we were going to have a day’s rest—I mean work; that’s the rest we want! But this man is an enemy to the poor.”
The gardener half turned, as if he would speak, but changed his mind and went his way.
“Never mind John!” said the cook, loud enough for John to hear. “He’s an old curmudgeon as can’t sleep o’ nights for quarrellin’ inside him. I’ll go to mis’ess, and you go and sit down in the kitchen till I come to you.”
Chapter LIV.
The Kitchen.
Clare went into the kitchen, and sat down. The housemaid came in, and stood for a moment looking at him. Then she asked him what he wanted there.
“Cook told me to wait here,” he answered.
“Wait for what?”
“Till she came to me. She’s gone to speak to Miss Tempest.”