'Whither? To the Ring o' Bells. There be no one there to-night, all be away to Chimsworthy at the Haysel. You sit down again, and I will give you some cherry cordial.'
He obeyed sulkily.
'You can't go to dance at Chimsworthy, because you be here at Langford, and there's no dancing and merry-making here. But wait till you're at Coombe Park, and then you'll have junketings and harvest-homes and dances when you will. That'll be a rare life.'
He said nothing, but thrust his hands into his pockets, and looked moodily before him.
'Shall I tell you now who'll find you the money?'
He did not speak.
'Wellon will.'
'What?' he looked up in surprise.
'Ay! old Wellon as was gibbeted, he will.'
Charles laughed contemptuously. 'You are talking folly. I always thought you mad.'