"I was wondering, that's all. There's been a good deal of talk about him, so to speak. Some say he was took for the army just the same as if he hadn't sixpence. I have heard he was took prisoner by the Germans, too. But some people will talk. Have you heard 'bout his being killed, sir?"
"No, I never heard that."
"Ah." He looked at Dick questioningly, and then ventured further. "He didn't do hisself much credit as a squire," he added.
"Indeed."
"No, there was nice carryings on, so I've heard. But then some people will talk. However, there's no doubt that Mrs. Lawson, who had her two daughters as servants there in your day, took them both away. It was no place for respectable Christians to live, she said."
Dick made no reply. He had just come by train, and was the only passenger who alighted. Old Wheelright immediately recognised him. He did not feel altogether at ease in listening to him while he discussed his cousin, but was so interested that he let him go on talking. The truth was that Dick did not know why he was there, except that he had obeyed the command he had heard when walking from King's Cross. As he stood there that day he was not sure whether he had heard a voice or whether it was only an impression. But the words haunted him, and he felt he could do no other than obey. Now he was here, however, he did not know where to go, or what to do. He felt sensitive about going to the house which he had thought was his, and asking for admission. The action would call up too many painful memories. And yet he did not like going back without once again seeing the home that had meant so much to him.
"You know that people have talked a lot about you, sir?"
"I dare say."
"And everybody was sorry when you left. It was all so funny. Young Riggleton he came to the Hare and Hounds, and told the landlord all about it."
"Indeed."