“No, only to a place called Coombe.”
“Coombe-in-Teignhead? You haven’t many miles more. Nice place. Just heard there has been a fire there.”
“Indeed. Insured?”
“Can’t say, sir. My little place was burnt down. A tramp slept in the tallat over the pigs and set it ablaze with his pipe. Happily, I was insured, and now I have a very respectable house over my head. What will you please to take, sir?”
“Some rum and milk, I think.”
Then Mr. Squire and the landlord went within, and Pasco lowered his kerchief. He wished he had heard more’that the man had entered into particulars, and yet he dared not inquire.
Presently the lawyer stepped into the carriage. The host attended him, and in shutting the door, caught sight of Pasco.
“Halloo!” he exclaimed. “Mr. Pepperill, have you heard the news?”
“News’what news?”
“Why, rather bad for you. There’s been a terrible fire at your place.”