CHAPTER XI. THE GHOST OF WYNYATES.
Vague rumours began to come to Griff's ears nowadays, and people stared curiously at him as he passed them in the street.
"Look here, Gabriel, what's in the wind?" he asked bluntly, while the preacher and he were taking a walk together one afternoon.
Although the summer was well advanced now, Joe Strangeways, despite his ready acquiescence in the old witch's advice, had but lately summoned resolution enough to take him to Lawyer French's office. But his tongue had not been idle in the meanwhile.
Gabriel was not the man to break any news gently, nor to beat about the bush; he lacked the guile. So he rested a steady eye on Griff, and—"They say that matters are wrong between you and Kate Strangeways," he said.
Lomax met the preacher's eye squarely.
"Do you believe their tales?"
"I want not to. Lad, it would break my heart to believe it of you. Can you give me your word it's false?"
"As false as the liar who set it abroad. You can believe it or not as you like; but we're free of that charge."
Griff was hurt that the story was going abroad—hurt by a remembrance of his part in the scene which was responsible for it, hurt by the preacher's momentary doubt.