"Can you?" said Jim, with a look of surprise, for this too was all new since he went into captivity. "I wish you would. Just say 'Coming home--Jim,' and send it to Sir Denzil Carron, Carne, Sandshire."
"Right! I'll see to it."
And he duly saw to it, but in the mighty pressure on the wires, consequent on the great events of those latter days, the private dispatch got mislaid, or was lost on the road--somewhere under the Black Sea, maybe, or in the wilds of Turkey; anyway, it never reached its destination.
And so it came about that Jim, satisfied that they knew of his coming, walked up to the door of Mrs. Jex's cottage, three weeks later, and found it occupied by young John Braddle, the carpenter's son, and his newly married wife.
"My gosh!" said young John at sight of him. "But yo' did give me a turn, Mester Jim! An' yo've lost an arm! Was that i' th' big charge?"
"No; I left it inside Sebastopol, John. But where's everybody? Mr. Eager and----"
"They're all up at Vicarage, Mester Jim. He's vicar now, and Mrs. Jex she keeps house for him. An' so Molly and me----"
But Jim was off, with a wave of the workable arm. He had not come home to hear about John and Molly Braddle.
Mr. and Mrs. Charles Eager had just got back from their honeymoon. Mrs. Jex had been in residence for a month past, getting things into shape for them, with Gracie's very active assistance. And--"Bless her 'art! She couldn' do no more if 'twas her own house she was a-fittin' up. And may I live to see that day!" said Mrs. Jex with fervour.
Gracie had been living at Knoyle, for the comfort and consolation of Sir George, who found his great house very lonely, and talked of selling it and coming to live with them at the cosy old ivy-covered Vicarage.