The Master of Greylands: A Novel

by Mrs. Henry Wood

"I am the son of the Master of Greylands."

"Ay. Can't mistake a Castlemaine. I am Squire Dobie. You've heard of the Dobies?"

"Oh dear, yes. I knew Mr. Tom Dobie and the old Squire."

"To be sure. Well, there's only me left of them. I have been to pay a visit to your father."

"I hope you found him at home, sir."

"Yes, and have been talking with him. Well you are a fine young fellow: over six feet, I suppose. I wish I had a son like you! Was that poor cousin of yours, young Anthony--who seems to have vanished more mysteriously than anybody ever vanished yet--was he a Castlemaine?"

"Not in height: he was rather short. But he had a regular Castlemaine face; as nice-looking as they say my Uncle Basil used to be."

"What has become of him?"

"I don't know. I wish I did know!" Harry added earnestly.

They parted. That this young fellow had borne no share in the business, and would be glad to find its elucidation, Squire Dobie saw. Turning down the little path, when he came to it, that led to the Hutt, he knocked at the door.