“’Pon my word, you’re the queerest little chap I ever saw in my life. Can’t you tell me anything about yourself?”
“My Christian name is Piers.”
“It’s an uncommon name.”
“It is, but not in our family. You shall have your money back to-morrow or the next day at farthest. One and elevenpence won’t break you, will it?”
“No,” said the gentleman. “Jump up, Piers; I’ll drive you to the station, anyhow.”
The child obeyed, and a moment later was seated by the man’s side. The Squire whipped up his pony.
“What do you want to do when you get to Haversham?”
“I want to go to Pelham Towers.”
“Pelham Towers! Hullo! They’re in great trouble over there, you know.”
“Are they? I don’t know,” said little Piers. His face was white, he began to shiver. They reached the railway station.