“Despatch?”
“Yes. To Barnstaple.”
“What for?”
“How should I know? It was a big letter, all tied round with ribbon and sealed up, and I’ve got another like it in here.”
As he spoke in a voice full of importance, he tapped a leathern wallet slung over his right shoulder.
“Why, Samson, who did you take it to?”
“To that gen’leman who was here the other night.”
“Captain Miles?”
“Yes. At Barnstaple, and some more gen’lemen was with him when I got there, and he read the letter, and they read the letter, and then they said they’d write another, and I was to go down and have some bread and cheese and cider, and I did—a lot.”
“I wonder what it means?” said Fred, as he walked on beside the pony, holding by its thick mane, for it was uphill.