“Ay! Some one come after you.”
“After me?”
Notwithstanding his bad ankle, Pasco started back. Had his face not been in shadow, the landlord might have observed how pale he had become.
“What! come from Coombe?” he asked in a faltering voice.
“Hardly that, master,” answered the landlord. “Not likely that when you be come from there. No, o’ course, came t’other road. He asked about you at Brimpts, and then drove on. He’s purposing to sleep the night here, and was intending to push on to Coombe to-morrow. He’s ordered some supper, and my old woman ha’ done him a couple of rashers and some eggs. Have you a mind to join him?”
“But who is he? What does he want?” Pasco was still uneasy.
“A sort of a lawyer chap.”
“A lawyer?” Pepperill hobbled to his trap. “I’ll push on, thank ye, I’ll not stay.”
“Nay, you’d better. I hold wi’ you, master, that it is best in general to give clear room to lawyers. But this time I don’t think but you’d safest come in. He’ll do you no hurt, and maybe he brings you good, Mr. Pepperill.”
“I’ll go on,” said Pasco decidedly. “I hate all lawyers as I do ravens.”