‘This is not the time for me to tell you the whole sad tale,’ he went on. ‘I have acted as I thought my duty pointed out—my duty to a brother.’
‘Yes,’ said Barbara, ‘you have a brother—that strange boy.’
A laugh, jeering and shrill, close in their ears. From behind the great yew appeared the shoulders and face of the impish Walter.
‘Oh, the pious, the proper Jasper! Oh, ho, ho! What frail men these saints are who read their Bibles to weak-eyed Leahs and blooming Rachels, and make love to both!
He pointed jeeringly at them with his long fingers.
‘I set the down on fire for a little fun. I drove the ponies along this lane; and see, I have disturbed a pair of ring-doves as well. I won’t hoot any more; but—coo! coo! coo!’ He ran away, but stopped every now and then and sent back to them his insulting imitations of the call of wood-pigeons—’Coo! coo! coo!’
[CHAPTER XXXV.]
THE ALARM BELL.
Next morning Barbara entered the hall after having seen about the duties of the house, ordered dinner, weighed out spices and groats, made the under-servant do the work of Jane, who was absent; she moved about her usual duties with her usual precision and order, but without her usual composure.