Brompton did not reply. He threw out two or three puffs of smoke, then took the cigar from his lips and flung it from him. He looked serious, and, I thought, displeased. My misgivings returned. Had Harry incurred ill-will by some generous imprudence? Had he left the house, perhaps? Was the landlord afraid of being involved in his guest's discredit?
He spoke at last, with effort.
"Is your name——?"
"Colvil."
He came down the steps and stood close to me, laying a hand on my horse's neck and stroking down his mane.
"Mr. Colvil, I don't know that anybody is to blame; but an accident has happened here. I'm sorry to be the one to tell you of it."
I dismounted. Brompton made several attempts at beginning, but stopped again.
"You had some trouble in your town yesterday," I said; "can that in any way concern Mr. Dudley?"
"Are you a near friend of his?"
"Yes."