"I fish, but I'm not what you would call a fisher."
"I knowed it by your speech. Well, then, I won't trouble 'ee, sir, this mizzly night," said the man, with some eagerness.
"No trouble at all. 'Tis not very far."
"Well, 'twas to be," muttered the coachman. Dick thought it was an odd thing to say. Still more surprised was he when the driver leant over and extinguished the candle-flame with his fingers. "You see," he explained, "the gentleman inside is terrible bad, met with an accident, as 'a med say."
"Bring him to our house, then," said Dick instantly; "my mother will be pleased to do something for him."
"Not for gold and di'monds," replied the man quickly. "No, we go to Five Pilchards; 'tis a good enough inn, I've heerd tell."
Dick said no more. He wondered who the stranger was, and what brought him to Polkerran, where visitors were rare. The carriage rumbled on slowly; every now and then the driver made the horses walk, though the road here was level. It seemed to Dick that his attitude and manner were those of a man intently listening.
They came to the spot where a short drive led from the road to the Dower House, which could just be discerned, a black mass in the rain. "That villain has not returned, then," thought Dick, seeing no light in the house.
At this moment there came upon their ears the clattering sound of several horses from the foot of the hill which they had nearly reached. The driver jerked his horses to a standstill, looked from side to side, and seeing the carriage-drive, to which there was no gate, wheeled the horses round and drove in, not on the hard road, but on the bordering grass.
"This is a private road," said Dick, wondering.