“Don’t want to speak without leave, Master Fred, sir,” said Samson, in his gruff tones; “but I’ve been thinking about my brother here.”
“Yes, Samson; quite right,” said Fred.
“No, sir, it ain’t quite right. He’ll be no end of time getting well in a place like this.”
“I’m afraid so, Samson.”
“Well, sir, why not you and me and Master Scarlett there set to work first dark night, and get ’em away, one at a time, on old Dodder?”
“The pony?”
“Yes, sir.”
“But where to, man—where to?”
“Well, sir, I’ve been thinking about that, and I thought of the Manor, where they’d be comfortable; but that place wouldn’t be safe, nor the barns nor stables, nor none of the cottages round.”
“No; it would be madness to attempt it.”