“Of all brazen-faced knaves, that Stockhausen must be the worst!—an adept in cunning, a lying hypocrite!” exploded the Squire.
“I suspected him at the time,” said Duffham.
“You did! What were your grounds for it?”
“I had no particular grounds. His manner did not appear to me to be satisfactory; that was all. Of course I was not sure.”
“He is a base man,” concluded the Squire. And from that time he turned the cold shoulder on Hyde.
But time is a sure healer of wounds; a softener of resentment. As it passed on, we began to forget Hyde’s dark points, and to remember his good qualities. Any way, Ketira the gipsy and Ketira’s daughter passed out of memory, just as they had passed out of sight.
Suddenly we heard that Abel Carew was preparing to go on a journey. I went off to ask him where he was bound for.
“I am going to see them, Master Johnny,” he replied. “I don’t know how they are off, sir, and it is my duty to see. The child is ill: and I fear they may be wanting assistance, which Ketira is too proud to write and ask for.”
“Kettie ill! What is the matter with her?”