Gideon, who was beginning to be amused by his effrontery, thanked him, and, upon arrival at the Sun Inn, followed his advice. The result was not happy. The landlord regarded him with patent hostility, and said that if ever he had had an inkling of the trouble which was to come upon him through giving this precious Mr. Rufford house-room he would have put up his shutters rather than have faced it.
“And if it’s that pesky boy of his as you’re after, it ain’t no manner of use asking me,” he added. “Because it’s none of my business, nor never was! And if it’s rooms you’re wanting, the house is full!”
Captain Ware, whose autocratic temperament did not make it easy for him to swallow impertinence with a good grace, took instant exception to this form of address, and was on the point of adding to a pithy summary of the landlord’s failings and probable end his own name and style when Mr. Liversedge, with his deprecating cough, laid a hand on his sleeve, and said: “Ahem! Allow me, sir! Now, my good man, attend to me, if you please! You will not deny that Mr. Rufford has lately been staying in this inn, with—I fancy—a young companion.”
“If you mean as how he had Miss Belinda and that young brother of hers with him, which he said as he was his tutor, I won’t,” replied the landlord. “Not but what I never saw a tutor behave like he did, nor wear a coat like his. Too smokey, by half, that’s what he is, and the more fool me to let him into my house! The trouble I’ve had! Let alone Master Tom bringing me into disgrace through getting taken up for a common felon, the way he was, I’ve had Mr. Clitheroe threatening me with hell-fires for letting rakes seduce innocent females under my roof, which I never did, not wittingly, that is! And no sooner does he take himself off than there’s Mr. Mamble on the doorstep, ay, and brought along the constable, what’s more, which is a thing I never had happen to me, not in all my days!”
“Who the devil is Mr. Mamble?” demanded Gideon.
“Ah, you may well ask, sir! Master Tom’s father, that’s who he is!”
Matthew, who had been wholly bewildered by the landlord’s speech, said: “But who is Master Tom? Gideon, it can’t be Gilly! Liversedge! who is this Master Tom?”
“There, sir, I must own that you find me at a loss,” confessed Mr. Liversedge. “I can, however, state that Belinda is without known relatives. Master Tom, in fact, is a mystery.”
“Wait!” said Gideon. “Damme, why didn’t I think to bring my cousin’s letter with me? I fancy he spoke of bear-leading some boy or another. This would appear to be the boy.”
“I don’t know about bear-leading him, sir,” struck in the landlord. “By what Mr. Mamble said, him and that Mr. Snape, which is Master Tom’s real tutor, Mr. Rufford kidnapped Master Tom. Mr. Mamble was talking of going to London to set the Runners on to his heels, but myself I’d say it was more like Master Tom kidnapped him, for a more daring boy I hope I may never clap my eyes on! Nice goings on when the gentry take to highroad robbery, and has to be bailed out of prison! Mr. Mamble has it fixed in his head his son has got into the hands of a rogue which is using him for his wicked ends, and nothing the constable said could make him change his mind! Mind you, I never thought such of Mr. Rufford myself, and no more, didn’t the constable, or Mr. Oare, which is the magistrate here.”