“No—water—thanks.”
And he drank a deep draught.
“Where’s the horse, sir?” she asked after a glance at the saddle which lay on its side on the floor.
“In the field, the poplar field, all right—well?”
“Tom told you my message, sir?” she asked, averting her eyes a little.
“Yes—where is she—asleep?”
“The mistress is in her bed, asleep I do suppose.”
“Yes, yes, and quite well, Tom says. And where is the—the—you sent me word there was some one here. I know whom you mean. Where is she?”
“In the front bed-room—the old room—it will be over the hall-door, you know—she’s in bed, and asleep, I’m thinkin’; but best not make any stir—some folks sleep so light, ye know.”
“It’s late,” he said, taking out his watch, but forgetting to consult it, “and I dare say she is—she came to-night, yes—and she’s tired, or ought to be—a long way.”