"By George, no! I shall enjoy my Christmas better if we've dished that bold fellow. I'll go back to the cutter and turn in for a spell. You'll arrange with the dragoons?"
"I will. They're not in the sweetest of tempers, I assure you, and no wonder. But I told them to go and get a sleep at the inn, and made 'em swear to keep sober. Mrs. Doubledick won't give them too much to drink, however; I threatened her with pains and penalties if she did."
"Have a thimbleful before you go, Mildmay. We'll drink to success at Lunnan Cove."
Mr. Polwhele's housekeeper set out with the firm intention of carrying the note straight to Doubledick. But the sight of the blazing mansion was too much for her resolution; so magnificent a spectacle had never been seen at Polkerran before. When she reached the bridge, instead of turning to the left towards the inn, she went straight along the road, intending to watch the fire at close quarters for a little while, and call on Doubledick on the way back. She had put the note into her pocket.
On arriving near the Dower House, she met several acquaintances among the crowd, and walked with them round to the north side of the blaze, to avoid the smoke and sparks blown by the north-east wind. The wind had been increasing in force since the early morning, and blew the women's skirts about as they stood with their backs to it.
"Mind yer bonnet, my dear," said one of them to the housekeeper. "Ye wouldn't like to see it blowed into the bonfire, that I'm sure of."
"Bonnet-strings be poor useless things in a wind like this," said another. "I'll tie my handkercher over my head, and I reckon ye'd better do the same, my dear."
"Iss, I think," said the housekeeper, drawing her handkerchief from her pocket.
With it came a fluttering scrap of paper. She clutched at it, but a gust of wind caught it, and swept it along into the midst of the glowing building.
"Drat it all!" she cried with vexation.