"I can't, I'm sorry to say—I leave here to-morrow."
"For good?"
"For six months or so."
"Why couldn't you say so? Ride over to Saxilton when you come back—send a line to Plover Court, you know. Men mostly can't fight nowadays; they're rare birds, not to be missed."
"Well, I'm blowed!" muttered Jack, as he and Griff picked their way homewards.
"Exactly," answered Lomax. And never a word besides did they utter till they parted at the door of the Dog and Grouse.
CHAPTER XIV. FRENDER'S FOLLY.
When Griff reached home and looked at himself in the glass, he was struck by the disarrangement of his features. The left eye was swollen and rapidly discolouring; his upper lip was pretty badly bruised; and a deepish cut in one cheek was still bleeding fitfully. These, and a few minor blemishes, helped to make up a picture that was far from prepossessing; it occurred to him that Kate would think it a bad start, if he appeared on the morrow in this guise. The more he thought of it, the more clearly he saw that he must get away from Marshcotes before the household was up, leaving a good-bye behind him. He stole out of his room and across the landing. A light shone under Mrs. Lomax's door, and he knocked gently.