A Startling Visitation.
“Fine night, master, but gashly dark,” said a gruff voice, as Vine was nearly at the bottom of the slope.
“Ah, Perrow! Yes, very dark,” said Vine quietly. “Not out with your boat to-night?”
“No, Master Vine, not to-night. Sea brimes. Why, if we cast a net to-night every mash would look as if it was a-fire. Best at home night like this. Going down town?”
“Yes, Perrow.”
“Ah, you’ll be going to see Master Van Heldre. You don’t know, sir, how glad my mates are as he’s better. Good night, sir. You’ll ketch up to Master Leslie if you look sharp. He come up as far as here and went back.”
“Thank you. Good night,” said Vine, and he walked on, but slackened his pace, for he felt that he could not meet Leslie then. The poor fellow would be suffering from his rebuff, and Vine shrank from listening to any appeal.
But he was fated to meet Leslie all the same, for at a turn of the steep path he encountered the young mine-owner coming towards him, and he appeared startled on finding who it was.
“Going out, Mr Vine?” he stammered. “I was coming up to the house, but—er—never mind; I can call some other time.”
“I would turn back with you, only I promised to go down to Mr Van Heldre’s to-night.”