“But wait a bit. It won’t be long before we meet.”
“I am very glad you were not there, Hayle,” said Rolph, after watching the play of the father’s features for a few moments.
“Why, sir, why?”
“Because I don’t want to have you take your trial for manslaughter.”
“No, no; I had enough of that over the breaking of Jack Harris’s head, sir; but—”
“Yes, but,” said Rolph, quickly, “I wanted to talk to you about that.”
“It was Caleb Kent,” said the keeper, with sudden excitement.
“Yes, it was Caleb Kent.”
“I might have known it; he was always for following her about. Curse him! But talking’s no good, sir; and, perhaps, it’s as well I wasn’t there. Thankye, sir, for that. It makes us something more like quits. As for Caleb Kent, perhaps I shall have a talk to him before I go. But mind you don’t speak to my Judy again.”
He shouldered his gun, gave Rolph a nod, and then walked swiftly away, the dogs hesitating for a few moments, and then dashing off, to follow close at his heels.