George did not wait to hear the conclusion of the sentence.
They were at that moment passing the parsonage, and Mr. Freeman, in a velvet skull-cap and slippers, was leaning over the gate. George checked his horse.
"Well, did he get safe off last night?" asked Mr. Freeman.
"Yes, at last. The train was forty minutes behind time."
"Ah! it's a shame they don't arrange matters so as to make that ten-o'clock train more punctual. Passengers are often kept waiting half-an-hour. Did you and Rupert remain to see him off?"
"Yes," replied George.
"Then Rupert would be late home," observed the clergyman, turning to Chattaway, who had also reined in. "I hope you excused him, Mr. Chattaway, under the circumstances."
Chattaway answered something very indistinctly, and the clergyman took it to imply that he had excused Rupert. George said good morning, and turned his horse onwards; they must make good speed, unless they would be "a day too late for the fair."
Not a syllable of the above conversation had Mr. Chattaway understood; it had been as Hebrew to him. He did not like Mr. Freeman's allusion to his "excusing the lateness of Rupert's return," for it proved that his harsh rule had become public property.
"I did not quite take Mr. Freeman," he said, turning equably to George, and speaking in careless accents. "Were you out last night with Rupert?"