“But we might find him,” said Jerry, looking piteous once more.
“Ay, you might find him, my lad. There’s no knowing.”
“But you think we should not?”
“Sure of it!”
Jerry turned away without a word, leaving the miller staring blankly at the spot where the old place had stood, and hurried back toward the town.
“Past seven!” he muttered, “and all those boots and shoes waiting. Breakfast’ll have to be late.”
It sounded strange, but it was quite natural for him to mix up his daily work with this business; and upon reaching the house, as if feeling satisfied that there was no more to be done, he hurried about over his valeting, beginning with Mr Draycott, but found that he was not in his room.
The tutor came, though, five minutes later, and, meeting his man, exclaimed with animation:
“Better news, Brigley.”
“No, sir,” said Jerry, shaking his head. “Worse—much worse!”