“But I believe they are right, uncle, just as you believe the king and the king’s men are right.”
“Pah! pah!” exclaimed the old man, savagely. “What does a boy like you know of such matters? You have hung about that Jonas Benson, and his inn, which is a hotbed of rebellion, so long that you talk like a lawyer. It is ruining you, and I won’t have a nephew of mine—”
“But Master Benson pays you my wages regularly, doesn’t he?” demanded Hadley, before the old man could say anything rash.
“Hem—well, I can say he does,” admitted Uncle Ephraim, and subsided for a moment. Soon, however, he started on a new tack. “Who is this English officer who is a guest at the inn, nephew?” he asked. “It is said that he is a great man from York way. And to think that you should oppose a gentleman and an officer of His Majesty’s army!”
“I don’t know how great a man he is,” Hadley returned. “He calls himself Colonel Creston Knowles—”
The old man started and leaned forward so that his wrinkled face came within the candlelight. Wonder, and an expression which seemed like fear, slowly grew upon his countenance. “Who did you say he was?” he demanded, his lean fingers clutching the edge of the table.
“Colonel Creston Knowles, uncle. His daughter, Mistress Lillian, is with him. They have come into Jersey to find a family by our name, I understand. Both of them have asked me about you, sir.” While he said this, Hadley scrutinized Uncle Ephraim closely. The old man was much disturbed, for he sat silent for several minutes and his face showed plainly that he was the man Colonel Knowles was so anxious to see. “Who is Colonel Knowles?” the boy asked, at length. “What does he want to see you for? Is he—is he related to us in any way?”
“No, no!” snarled the miser. “He’s nothing to either you or me. I—I don’t know him—I don’t know him, I tell you! Now, go to bed, and don’t disturb me with your questions.”
Hadley cleared up the untidy kitchen as best he could, and then lit a tallow dip at the single candle on the table, and obeyed his uncle’s behest by mounting the stairs to the loft over the room. He went to bed at once, for he was tired enough, but he could not sleep for thinking of his uncle’s strange manner and words. There was some mysterious connection between Colonel Knowles and the Morrises; but Uncle Ephraim did not intend to admit it.
Hadley fell into a doze at last, but only for a short time. The squeak of a door below aroused him, and after listening a moment and fancying all sort of noises, as one will in the night when the house is still, he crept out of bed, slipped on his outer clothes again, and tiptoed to the head of the stairs to see if his uncle had himself gone to bed. There was a faint light below, and the boy was confident that the candle must be burning, for Uncle Ephraim would never leave a fire on the hearth at this time of the year.