“And so you’re serving Mistress Judith by riding her horse from The Jolly Grig to the Ogilvie stables?” The sneer in Lindley’s voice was evident, and he tried again to take possession of the scarlet bridle that had slipped or had been withdrawn from his fingers.
“Ay, my master, the horse had strayed while Mistress Judith was gathering wild flowers in the Ogilvie woods. And since you may have reason for your curiosity, I’ll add that the maid was afraid her father would deprive her of the horse if he knew of this mischance, and she dared not trust one of the stable boys to search for it, so she came to me.”
“And thanking you for so much courtesy, add but one more favor,” scoffed Lindley. “Who and what may you be that Mistress Judith should come to you for aid?”
Lindley could see the careless shrug of the lad’s shoulders as he answered:
“Why, as I told you to-night, I’m servant to Miss Judith Ogilvie, servant and lover of Mistress Judith Ogilvie.”
“Lover!” The word halted at Lindley’s teeth, and his eyes rested superciliously on the slouched figure beside him.
“Ay, lover,” answered the lad, ignoring Lindley’s tone, unconscious of his look. “As the brook loves the moon, as the brook holds the moon in its heart and cherishes her there, so hold I Mistress Judith in my heart.”
“I like not your manner, boy, neither your manner nor your conversation.” Lindley’s anger expressed itself in his voice.
“Alas! I cannot change my manner so readily, my lord. But the conversation? It is of your own seeking. It is yours to end when you please. I am in no hurry, and the road lies ahead of you.” The lad halted his horse, but Lindley also drew rein.
“Answer straight who and what you are,” he cried. “I am cousin to Master James Ogilvie, and I have a right to demand an answer to those questions.”