"I heard the men in the yard talking about some such suspicion," he said quite calmly, "but nobody has been here. You see, Master Yarrow, our old gov'nor, Mr. Stennis, has been up in London for three days seeing his lawyer, and he don't like folk coming about the Grange when he is from home!"
"So I have heard," said I, "and he keeps some fine dogs there, too, to see that they don't."
For my father had refused to deliver Mr. Stennis' goods, except at Mr. Ball's house, which was on the main road, and no tearing dogs kept.
"Very like—very like," said Mr. Ball hastily; "and who may this fine young lady be—your sister? She seems to favour you, sir."
"Elsie Stennis," says I, "and if she had her rights you know very well what she would be! Your young mistress!"
"Elsie Stennis?" he gasped, "not poor Bell's daughter—and Robin's?"
"The same!"
"Bell and Robin Stennis—I mind them well. But where, how——"
The bailiff stopped, all thrown out of gear, much more affected, indeed, than when it was a question of Harry Foster's death.
"Well," he went on at last, "it's perhaps as well not asking. I might blurt things out. But I hope—I may say that I pray—that the day may come when you shall have your rights, young lady, and I shall see yon crew sent about their business to a madhouse. That's the fit place for such as they! There they go. I must be off. They will be at their processioning again, and Mr. Stennis will never forgive me if they come to a mischief or go off the premises!"