I was surprised to find that he was in earnest about eloping, but his was not a nature to look very far ahead, and he talked of being able to get along at some quiet foreign town as if he were not the sort of person in whom such an existence would bring out all the worst qualities. At any rate, I was determined to run no risks. I had made too many inquiries about Nat Holway not to be able to predict with some certainty what he would do if he discovered the truth.
I posted an anonymous letter from the next village to Copsley written in an illiterate scrawl. It informed him of Janet’s stolen meetings, and hinted the worst.
Chapter X
I had by this time informed Mr. Gascoyne of my acquaintance with his nephew and niece. At first he looked hurt.
“They are very heartless, I am afraid, Israel, very heartless; when my poor boy died neither of them wrote a line.”
“I am afraid, sir, that young Gascoyne has not much depth, but his sister seems to me a fine character.”
“What is she like?”
“Beautiful.”
Perhaps something in my voice betrayed what I felt, for he looked at me keenly.
“She is a little cold. Difficult, I should say, to rouse to enthusiasm, and she appears to have a will of iron.”