“No, we had some money, a whole shilling and some pennies.”
Mr. Aston said something under his breath and Mr. Stapleton murmured “tut-tut-tut.”
“That’s how we first missed the trail, Stapleton,” he said, and then as they walked up a steep hill he spoke to the boy.
“Christopher, I want you to tell me anything you remember about your mother and the old days if you wish it, but you must not talk about that to Aymer. It would make him unhappy.”
“Who is Aymer?” asked Christopher, not unreasonably.
“Aymer is my son, my eldest son. You are going to live with him.”
“Is he a boy like me?”
“No, he is quite big, grown up, but he can’t get about as you can, he is—a cripple.”
He said the words with a sort of forced jerk and half under his breath, but Christopher heard them and shivered.
“Do you live there, too?” he asked, pressing a little nearer the man who was no longer a stranger.