It was possible that the tidings of what had taken place might have reached Ashburton’possible, though hardly probable.
His uneasiness was relieved when he entered the bank. No allusion was made to any fire. The banker was profuse in his apologies. He could not help himself. There were certain rules in his affairs that he was bound to follow. He had no doubt it was an oversight of Mr. Pepperill not to pay in the sum required, but a man so full of business as he was reputed to be was liable to such slips of memory. The banker knew Mr. Squire by reputation, was quite sure all was as it should be. He would at once communicate with Coaker’indeed, Coaker was sure to be in Ashburton that day, and let him have the money of the bill.
For some distance Pasco held up his head, and talked boastfully. He had taught that banker what he really was. Everyone else knew he was a man of his word and a man of substance. The solicitor was glad of this change in his companion’s mood, and talked chirpily.
But the change in Pepperill’s manner did not last long. As he neared Newton, he leaned back in the carriage. He did not desire to be recognised and saluted with the news of the fire. The chaise drew up for the horses to be watered at the inn which had been rebuilt after a fire.
“Will you have a drop of something?” asked the solicitor. “I shall descend for a minute. I suppose we have not got far to go now?”
He left the chaise, and left the door open. Pasco closed it, and being affected with sneezing, opened his pocket-handkerchief and buried his face in the napkin, as the landlord came to the door.
He did not lower the kerchief, he listened from behind it to the host conversing with Mr. Squire.
“Fine morning, sir’come from far?”
“No, nothing very great to-day. Off the moor and through Ashburton.”
“Going on to Teignmouth, sir?”