Richard Linnell made no reply, but quietly followed the Major.
“I mustn’t let them meet without me there,” thought Mellersh. “The scoundrel might hit him badly next time.”
He strode off after Richard Linnell, but missed him, and it was quite half an hour before they met again.
“I have been about the gate,” said Richard hoarsely. “There is no post-chaise there.”
“Then it is a hoax.”
“No; I cannot think that it is. Rockley is yonder, and he is watching about in a curious, restless way that means something.”
“Where is he?”
“Over there by the saloon window.”
“Oh, my dear Dick, I am hungry for a good hand at whist, and to win a little Philistine gold, and here you keep me hanging about after you, looking for a mare’s nest.”
“I can’t stop,” said Linnell. “Where shall I find you if I want you?”