'And who ordered you?' exclaimed Milly.
'Fayther.'
'Old Pegtop. Well, that's summat to laugh at, it is—our servant a-shutting us out of our own grounds.'
'No servant o' yourn!'
'Come, lass, what do you mean?'
'He be old Silas's miller, and what's that to thee?'
With these words the girl made a spring on the hasp of the padlock, and then got easily over the gate.
'Can't you do that, cousin?' whispered Milly to me, with an impatient nudge. 'I wish you'd try.'
'No, dear—come away, Milly,' and I began to withdraw.
'Lookee, lass, 'twill be an ill day's work for thee when I tell the Governor,' said Milly, addressing the girl, who stood on a log of timber at the other side, regarding us with a sullen composure.