The Spaniard looked up.
“Yes,” he said carelessly, “methinks this eastern end of the Island more suited to my needs than the west. In three days’ time I shall return, and rest me at the sign of the Ship for a while.”
Big French looked at him in amazement and Blueneck swore under his breath at his master’s eccentricities.
Sue smiled.
“All will be ready for you, sir,” she said. “I thank you.”
The Spaniard bowed, sweeping the floor with his big hat. “Farewell, Mistresses,” he said gallantly as they curtseyed, rather abashed at his Spanish courtesy.
“And now Master French,” he continued, “if thou wilt accompany me to the wall we will discuss that little matter of a trip to Tiptree.”
French looked at the debonair little figure half-irritated by the underlying note of command in his voice, but on the other hand half charmed by an indescribable air of perfect freedom which seemed to be exhaled from him.
“I’m coming, Captain,” he said, and nodded to the girls before he turned to follow Black’erchief Dick, who with another bow marched out of the open door, Blueneck after him.
Sue went to the door and watched them going down the road; Big French, a handsome figure in his blue coat, strode beside the slight, gaudily clad little Spaniard whose head hardly reached a foot above the carter’s belt, while Blueneck trudged alone behind. “Ah,” said she, her eyes fixed on the small, almost insignificant figure in the distance, “what a gallant gentleman!”