"Lord love ye, man, you won't be alone!" roared Bainton,—"There's plenty in the village 'ull take care o' that!"
"Say to him," continued Maryllia steadily, noting the forester's troubled countenance, "he must now remember that I am mistress here, and that my orders, even if given at the last moment, are to be obeyed."
"That's it!" chuckled Josey Letherbarrow, knocking his stick on the ground in a kind of ecstasy,—"That's it! Things ain't goin' to be as they 'as been now the Squire's little gel is 'ome! That's it!" And he nodded emphatically. "Give a reskil rope enough an' he'll 'ang hisself by the neck till he be dead, and the Lord ha' mercy on his soul!"
Maryllia smiled, watching all her three quaint visitors with a sensation of mingled interest and whimsical amusement.
"D'ye hear? You're to tell Leach," shouted Bainton, "that Miss Vancourt is mistress 'ere, and her orders is to be obeyed at the last moment! Which you might ha' understood without splittin' my throat to tell ye, if ye had a little more sense, which, lackin', 'owever, can't be 'elped. What are ye afeard of, eh?"
"Mr. Leach is a hard man," continued Spruce, anxiously glancing at
Maryllia; "He would lose me my place if he could—:"
Maryllia heard, and privately decided that the person to lose his place would be Leach himself. "It is quite exciting!" she thought; "I was wondering a while ago what I should do to amuse myself in the country, and here I am called upon at once to remedy wrongs and settle village feuds! Nothing could be more novel and delightful!" Aloud, she said,—
"None of the people who were in my father's service will lose their places with me, unless for some very serious fault. Please"—and she raised her eyes in pretty appeal to Bainton, "Please make everybody understand that! Are you one of the foresters here?"
Bainton shook his head.
"No, Miss,—I'm the Passon's head man. I does all his gardening and keeps a few flowers growin' in the churchyard. There's a rose climbin' over the cross on the old Squire's grave what will do ye good to see, come another fortnight of this warm weather. But Passon, he be main worrited about the Five Sisters, and knowin' as 'ow I'd worked for the old Squire at 'arvest an,' sich-like, he thought I might be able to 'splain to ye—"