Jasper imagined all manner of intimate confidences passing between them. Confound De Rothan, he seemed on excellent terms with the girl! No doubt that was why the Frenchman had looked him over with such amused insolence when they had met.
Jasper knelt awhile behind the furze, gripping his coat collar with one hand, and staring hard at the green gorse. He was ready to believe that De Rothan was Nance's lover, and a passion of repulsion held him for the moment. The anger in his blood was a cold and ugly anger. A man feels the more bitter when he has reason to despise himself.
Then a thought struck him.
"Yes, by George! That's it! I'll make sure of the man. Tom Stook shall have a look at him."
He started up, and, keeping his body bent, made his way back toward his horse.
"I'll make sure that Monsieur de Rothan is Tom Stook's man. Then, by George! I'll call him to account."
[XVII]
In half an hour Jasper Benham was back in the turnip field on the Rush Heath land where Tom Stook was still wielding his hoe.
"Tom, can you trot four miles at a stretch?"
"Lord, sur, what for?"