But his mother and Mistress Cheshire were in the hall, and so for answer Joscelyn pushed him through the door; and he went out to the older women, munching a bit of sweet cake like a boy.
By this time the neighbours were all collected about the door, eager to hear of absent sons and husbands; and he went out to them and answered questions, and took messages and told anew the story of his escape, but with such omissions of names as to throw no suspicion on Dame Grant, if so the story found its way back to the north.
“And in writing to Peter,” he said to Patience and her mother, who were grief stricken at his story, “say only that Dick Clevering told you where he was; he will understand, and anything else might arouse the warden’s suspicions and bring punishment upon him.”
He thought they would never have done with their inquiries and their bemoanings, so short was his time and so eager was he for one more word with Joscelyn. At last he said:—
“And now, my friends, I will carry as many letters as my pockets can hold, but they must be writ in short shift, for in an hour I go on my journey and shall not return this way when once I set my face northward.”
And so they went away,—some to prepare their missives, others out of delicacy, feeling his own people must have him to themselves.
“Tell us all about your journey’s purpose, Richard,” said Betty.
“No, sister; a soldier’s mission is not his property. Suffice it for you to know that another man, Dunn by name, and I go through the Carolinas, perhaps so far south as Savannah, on business for the commander-in-chief. He cannot weaken his present force by detaching any number of men to aid the southerners, but he wants to put them on their guard against the force Clinton is sending by sea from New York; and also to learn accurately the strength of the cause in these parts.”
“And where is Master Dunn?”