“Now, no unnecessary violence,” I said; “but I’ll take my life that ‘dodder’ is the word he used.”
There was here a question as to the disposal of his horse. It was resolved to convey it to the High Farm, some miles up the moor, the same evening and hold it there in secret till the time was by for the Corporal’s release. And I had such a high regard for Goodman and his son that I did not hesitate to think them the equals of their word. Wherefore I went home to dress in a cheerful mood, and passed a lively evening with my aunt, his lordship, and Miss Prue.
My aunt put me quite remarkably in mind of a ferret held up by the throat. The creature was prepared to bite on the first occasion, only the season was not yet, for to attempt to do so now was to run the risk of having the life choked out of it.
“Aunt,” says I, as we sat at supper, “my dearest Prue tells me she must leave us in a day or two.”
“Niece,” says my aunt, politely, “I shall be grieved indeed to forego her charming company.”
But here the dowager’s steely smile shone out and caught my eye, and—well, I wished it had not done so.
CHAPTER XIV.
IN WHICH THE CAPTAIN’S WIT BECOMES A
RIVAL OF MY OWN.
On the fateful morrow the frost still held, and gave no sign of yielding. The Doctor rode over towards noon to attend the Captain’s leg. When he left the library I took his professional opinion on both that member and its owner.
“Doing nicely, very nicely,” says the Doctor. “Nor are the injuries as serious as we did at first suppose.”
“We shall have him about on crutches in a day or two, perhaps?” says I, making a wry face.