The water after some hours’ working was much lower, so that a ledge about nine inches wide was laid bare and offered itself as a convenient resting-place; but I thought I would not fish while my uncles were away, especially since they had left me in charge.
So I walked right to the very place I had been warned to avoid, and found the men as busy as usual, and ready enough to say a few civil words.
And so the afternoon wore away, and telling myself that I had been scared at shadows, I felt a great deal more confident by tea-time when the men were leaving.
I sat in the office then as important as if I were the master, and listened to their leaving and crossing the yard. I could hear them talking to the gate-keeper, and then I fancied I heard a rustling noise outside the building, but it was not repeated, and I began listening to the last men going, and soon after, according to his custom, old Dunning the gate-keeper came to bring his key.
I heard the old fellow’s halting step on the stairs, and trying to look very firm I answered his tap with a loud and important “Come in!”
“All gone, Mester Jacob, sir,” he said. “I s’pose you’ll tek a look round?”
“Yes; I’ll do that, Dunning,” I replied.
“Then, good-night, sir!”
“One moment, Dunning,” I cried, as he turned to go. “I know you don’t mix with the quarrels between masters and men.”
“Not I, Mester Jacob. I just do my bit o’ work here, which just suits me, being a worn-out sort o’ man, and then goes back home to my tea and my garden. You’ve nivver seen my bit o’ garden, Mester Jacob, sir. You must come.”