"To be sure. I'll come too, Mr. Trevanion; 'twill be like old times, indeed."
The riding-officer's assent was much more hearty than Mr. Mildmay's, which was perhaps a little surprising in view of the suspicions he had confessed to on the previous day in speaking to Dick.
"That's right," said Trevanion. "I shall be glad to welcome you. The hour is six—did I name it? I hope Penwarden will be found by that time; you'll feel easier, I dare say. Good-bye, then."
When he had ridden away, Mr. Mildmay dismissed the underlings and went off to have a meal with the riding-officer.
"That fellow's too free-and-easy to be the villain the Squire thinks him," said Mr. Mildmay, as they walked southward out of the village.
Mr. Polwhele smiled.
"I'm beginning to think he's the cleverest free-trader the duchy ever bred," he remarked.
"My dear fellow!" expostulated the lieutenant.
"I had my suspicions; this invitation has convinced me," replied Mr. Polwhele. "Bless my life, to think you are so simple, Mildmay! Don't you see the game? They've put Penwarden out of the way. What does that mean? A big run, as sure as I'm alive. But we two are obstacles; they blink at kidnapping us, but they do better. They invite us to a randy, and while we are making merry they slip inshore, run their cargo, liberate Penwarden, and laugh at us for a pair of jackasses."
"That's nonsense, Polwhele. The cutter will be out, though I'm not on it. Besides, didn't he say we can leave when we like?"