“Neither one nor t’other, Mistress Susan,” answered John. “I’m going to stay with Master Digby for the present.”
“You can’t do that; Master Digby has to go at once to Mr Sanford,” replied Susan.
“That’s where I’m going to, young woman, let me tell you,” exclaimed John, bristling up. “He has been spirited away once, and we had a hard job to get him back; and I’m not going to lose sight of him till I see him safe in Mr Sanford’s hands, who must be answerable for him whenever he is sent for. A pretty thing to leave him with such as you, indeed, who might go and declare that you never got him. No, Master Digby, dear—that’s what I’m going to do, I know my duty, and I’m going to do it.”
The last remark was made to Digby, who was expostulating, by signs, with John, fearing that he would offend Susan. The damsel, however, seemed not to care a bit for what John said; and would have shut the hall-door in his face, but he would not let go of Digby’s hand.
“Well, I don’t know what master will say to you,” exclaimed Susan, as John entered the hall, evidently resolved not to lose sight of Digby, or his boxes, till he had delivered them into what he considered proper custody. Susan, meantime, disappeared at a door on one side of the hall. She soon returned.
“You are to go in there,” she said, addressing Digby. “Not you,” she said, looking at John.
“There are just two opinions about that,” answered John, coolly opening the door, and walking with Digby into a handsome library.
A tall, delicate-looking man, was reclining in his dressing-gown on a sofa, with a book in his hand. He looked up with an expression of surprise on his countenance on seeing John; and then glanced at Digby, but did not rise.
“Bee’s you Mr Sanford, sir?” asked John, pulling the lock of his hair he usually employed for that purpose.
“Yes, I am, and the head of this school; and who are you?” said the gentleman, but not at all in an angry tone.