"Yes, but I did. The road seemed as plain as a pikestaff, while the landlord at the inn there was giving me directions; but these bothersome moors of yours put a man off—from sky-line to sky-line they never vary, and they upset one's notions confoundedly."
Lassie began to show signs of impatience; she wanted to be back in her stall again, and it did not fit with her ideas of good sense that her master should keep her waiting while he talked to a casual stranger on the highroad.
"All right, Lassie, all right," said Griff; "a mile or two out of our way, and then home in good earnest. I'll see you as far as Wynyates, Roddick." Then, remembering the preacher, "Hirst, you won't mind my leaving you here? We must have another ride before long."
"As soon as you like, old fellow; it has done me a world of good," returned the preacher, cheerily.
"Now, Roddick, what on earth brings you here?" said Griff, as they went down the hill.
"Honours easy," retorted the other nonchalantly. "I thought you were in town, at the tail of Sybil Ogilvie; what brings you here?"
"Sybil Ogilvie herself, and a longing for fresh air." There was a testiness in Griff's voice.
"Ah—she played a little too fast and loose with you, did she? Well, I commend your sense, Lomax; she was worth about as little as any woman I ever saw, and that is saying a good deal."
"You still don't tell me why——"
"A longing for fresh air—and a few other trifles with which I won't burden you just now. Enough that I'm here, and here I mean to stay until it pleases Providence to kick me out."