To this Robin made no response, for Robin was young and phlegmatic. He was also strong.
The gardener, Simon by name, was not one of the prophets—though in regard to the weather and morals he considered himself one—but if any person had chanced to overhear the conversation of two men seated in a neighbouring public-house that morning, that person would have inclined to give the gardener credit for some sort of second sight.
“Bill,” growled one of the said men, over his beer, in a low, almost inaudible tone, “I’ve bin up to look at the ’ouse, an’ the dinin’-room winder’ll be as easy to open as a door on the latch. I had a good look at it.”
“You are the man for cheek an’ pluck,” growled the other man, over his beer, with a glance of admiration at his comrade. “How ever did you manage it, Dick?”
“The usual way, in course. Comed it soft over the ’ousemaid; said I was a gardener in search of a job, an’ would she mind tellin’ me where the head-gardener was? You see, Bill, I had twigged him in front o’ the ’ouse five minutes before. ‘I don’t know as he’s got any odd jobs to give ’ee,’ says she; ‘but he’s in the front garden at this minute. If you goes round, you’ll find him.’ ‘Hall right, my dear,’ says I; an’ away I goes right round past the dinin’-room winder, where I stops an’ looks about, like as if I was awful anxious to find somebody. In coorse I glanced in, an’ saw the fastenin’s.
“They couldn’t keep out a babby! Sideboard all right at the t’other end, with a lookin’-glass over it—to help folk, I fancy, to see what they look like w’en they’re a-eatin’ their wittles. Anyhow, it helped me to see the gardener comin’ up one o’ the side walks; so I wheels about double quick, an’ looked pleased to see him.
“‘Hallo!’ cries he.
“‘I was lookin’ for you,’ says I, quite easy like.
“‘Did you expect to find me in the dinin’-room?’ says he.
“‘Not just that,’ says I, ‘but it’s nat’ral for a feller to look at a ’andsome room w’en he chances to pass it.’