Zacchary nodded. 'Jennifer will be all right to-morrow. Yonder Tony be a power o' help. A don't allow but her be as handy a man with the brutes as ever a clapped eyes on. Beats me how her knows such a terr'ble lot about horses, and Lunnon-born and bred.' The old groom moved a step nearer. 'Yonder be a Devon man now come,' he pursued, his voice dropping. 'Do 'ee look out for your purse, Mistress.'
'Zacchary! I am truly ashamed of you!'
Zacchary looked stolidly at his mistress. 'Like as not a rogue,' he insisted. 'A don't niver trust they Devon ikes. I should be main surprised if her haven't robbed somebody already, being that careful with the saddlebags and all.'
'I don't suppose his saddlebags contain anything more than a bundle of documents,' said Marion. 'You're as bad as old Mother Borlase, Zacchary.'
'And the man was that solemn and grand,' went on Zacchary, 'a body might a took un for Governor of Bodmin, no less.'
'Go and get your supper. And don't be such a quarrelsome wretch. The man is very well.'
Marion followed Zacchary indoors and was escorted by the innkeeper's wife to the best bedroom, where Simone had laid out a change of dress for her mistress.
'I feel mightily inclined for a quiet meal,' remarked Marion as the last deft touches were put to her hair and gown. 'And perhaps I may get one if you will show the same kindness that you showed in entertaining Captain Beckenham on my behalf that first day.'
A slight spot of colour showed on Simone's cheeks.
'À votre service, Mademoiselle,' she said in a rather constrained voice.