Squire Moulton raised his head and said, in a harsh voice:
“Is Master Ralph in?”
“No, sir,” replied the man, “he went fishing this morning, and has not yet returned.”
“Well, send him immediately to me on his return. You may go.”
With an humble bow the man disappeared.
Half an hour, perhaps more, elapsed, when the sound of whistling was heard in the hall, and immediately the door opened again, and the young man in question entered.
He was dressed with exquisite neatness, and very gentlemanly in bearing and manners.
“Well, uncle, John told me I was wanted here, so I came as soon as I could get off some of the fish smell—such mean luck I never had before,” he said, a vexed look coming into his handsome face at the remembrance.
“I did wish to see you, Ralph; be seated, for I have much to say to you.”
The young man obeyed, inwardly wondering what was coming.