Of all her female acquaintances, Mrs. Brown preferred Mrs. Trenow for a quiet gossip, because, living very near "The Maister's" house, and having been on intimate terms of friendship with both Alrina and Alice Ann, she could impart as well as receive information.
The whole neighbourhood was teeming with news. Events of the most thrilling interest were happening every hour—and, being told and retold from house to house, they lost nothing in their transit—when, one afternoon, Mrs. Trenow paid her accustomed visit to her old friend Mrs. Brown, whom she fortunately found alone, with the exception of her husband, who was sitting in the chimney-corner, thinking of nothing, and whistling for want of thought.
As she entered, Mrs. Trenow closed the door after her, and looked round the room in a mysterious manner, much to Mrs. Brown's surprise,—for they had lately fallen into the habit of discussing their subject rather more openly, in the conscious security of the absence of the evil-eye.
"Arrah, then!" exclaimed Mrs. Brown, smiling; "the Franch are landed sure nuf now, then, I s'pose. Ef so, we'll put up a red coat to John Brown, and stick 'n out afore the door to frighten them away."
"I don't knaw nothen' 'bout the Franch, not I," replied Mrs. Trenow, drawing her chair as close to the landlady as she could, and bringing her face almost close to the ear of her friend; "but he's come back, cheeld vean!"
"Who's come back?" asked Mrs. Brown,—in a tone, however, which seemed to require no answer.
"I wor setten' up brave an' late, doen a bit of menden'," continued Mrs. Trenow,—"for, what with one body an' another comin' in chatting, I haan't done much by day lately—when I heard footsteps outside, and a woman's voice, complaining of a long walk, and how glad she was to get home once more. So, after they were gone by, I opened the door an' looked out, an' there I seed a man an' a woman. It was bright moonlight, you knaw,—an' who shud they be, but 'The Maister' and Miss Reeney. I cud see them so plain as I can see you now, as they went in through the little gate. Alice Ann was sent for again to-day, an' there they are. Where Miss Freeman es I caan't tell. They came back in a vessel, the maid said, an' wor out a bra' while. Where they've b'en to she cudn't tell, nor Miss Reeney neither, I b'lieve, for she wor kept fine an' close; but I shall knaw more another time,—Alice Ann cudn't stop more than a minute."
"Well, I'm glad they're come back, for one thing," said Mrs. Brown—"an' that's for the sake of Miss Reeney, poor young lady; I b'lieve she's dragged about more than she do like."
"Iss fie!" replied Mrs. Trenow, whispering into Mrs. Brown's ear again; "she's grieving about that young chap, so Alice Ann do say. She wor took away in the night, you knaw, an' never so much as wished 'n well; an' now she don't knaw where aw es, f'rall she ha' sent two letters to un; and she do b'lieve he's dead, for she haan't had a single line from him, evar sence he have b'en gone. An' our 'Siah said that he wor mad after har; an' ef he's alive he wud ha' found har somehow,—that's my b'lief."
"Well, all I can say es," chimed in Mrs. Brown, "that I'm sorry for them both. I took a mighty fancy to that young man. 'Tes whisht; but I caan't think that he's dead at all. But what's become of 'Siah?"