The gentleman turned.
"Mr. Landholm could not be here, sir," said Winthrop; "but his boat is here, and he has sent me to take care of it."
"He has! Couldn't come himself, eh? I'm sorry for that. — The box from the top of the stage, driver — that's all. — Do you understand the management of a boat?" said he eyeing Winthrop a little anxiously.
"Certainly, sir," said Winthrop. "I am accustomed to act as
Mr. Landholm's boatman. I am his son."
"His son, are you! Ah well, that makes all straight. I can trust you. Not his eldest son?"
"No sir."
"I thought it couldn't be the same. Well he's a deuced handsome pair of sons, tell him. I'm very sorry I can't stop, — I am obliged to go on now, and I must put my daughter and Miss Cadwallader in your charge, and trust you to get them safe home. I will be along and come to see you in a few days."
"The trunks is all out, sir," said the driver. "We oughtn't to stop no longer. It's a bad piece atween here and Bearfoot."
"I leave it all to you, then," said Mr. Haye. "Elizabeth, this young gentleman will see you and your baggage safe home. You won't want me. I'll see you next week."
He shook hands and was off, stage-coach and all. And Mr. Cowslip and Winthrop were left mounting guard over the baggage and the ladies. Elizabeth gave a comprehensive glance at the "young gentleman" designated by her father, and then turned it upon the black leather and boards which waited to be disposed of.