"The master's not been from home to-day, sir," said Dick when Robin asked of his father.
"Not been from home?"
"No, sir—not out of the house, except that he was walking in the pleasaunce half an hour ago."
Robin ran up the steps and through the screens to see if his father was still there; but the little walled garden, so far as he could see it in the light from the hall windows, was empty; and, indeed, it would be strange for any man to walk in such a place at such an hour. He wondered, too, to hear that his father had not been from home; for on all days, except he were ill, he would be about the estate, here and there. As he came back to the screens he heard a step going up and down in the hall, and on looking in met his father face to face. The old man had his hat on his head, but no cloak on his shoulders, though even with the fire the place was cold. It was plain that he had been walking up and down to warm himself. Robin could not make out his face very well, as he stood with his back to a torch.
"Where have you been, my lad?"
"I went to meet Anthony at one of the Dethick farms, sir—John
Merton's."
"You met no one else?"
"Yes, sir; Mr. Thomas FitzHerbert was there and dined with us. He rode with us, too, a little way." And then as he was on the point of speaking of the priest, he stopped himself; and in an instant knew that never again must he speak of a priest to his father; his father had already lost his right to that. His father looked at him a moment, standing with his hands clasped behind his back.
"Have you heard anything of a priest that is newly come to these parts—or coming?"
"Yes, sir. I hear mass is to be said … in the district on Sunday."