“Eh? What is the matter?” cried the Major suddenly.
“It is late, sir. I am keeping you up far beyond your usual time, I am sure.”
“Yes, and thank you for doing so,” said the Major. “It is a pleasant change. Early to bed is good, but not too early. Why, you do not suppose, Mr Reed, that we are going to let you tramp across the bleak mountain-side to-night, and have inquiries made for you in the morning, because you have not gone to the mine.”
“But really, Major Gurdon,” protested Reed.
“My dear sir, after all these years in this solitude, I know the place by heart, and there are dozens of spots—old shafts and the like—where a man may lose his life.”
“But indeed—”
“You are a new-comer. Yes, my dear sir, and we must take care of you. See how dark it is. Look, Dinah, my child. Go and see what the night is like.”
Dinah trembled as she went to the open French window, stepped into the verandah, and came back looking ghastly, just as the dog began to bark fiercely from somewhere at the back.
“Poachers after the grouse,” said the Major decisively. “I hope, Mr Reed, you will use your influence to keep your men from trespassing and going after the game—and my trout.”
“Of course, sir, but—”