‘Yes. We set out in very martial style, Caroline; but the prisoners we went to rescue met us half-way.’
‘Of course, nobody was hurt?’
‘Why, no; only Joe Scott’s wrists were a little galled with being pinioned too tightly behind his back.’
‘You were not there? You were not with the waggons when they were attacked?’
‘No; one seldom has the fortune to be present at occurences at which one would particularly with to assist.’
‘Where are you going this morning? I saw Murgatroyd saddling your horse in the yard.’
‘To Whinbury: it is market-day.’
‘Mr. Yorke is going, too; I met him in his gig. Come home with him.’
‘Why?’
‘Two are better than one, and nobody dislikes Mr. Yorke; at least, poor people do not dislike him.’
‘Therefore he would be a protection to me, who am hated?’
‘Who are misunderstood: that, probably, is the word. Shall you be late?—Will he be late, cousin Hortense?’
‘It is too probable: he has often much business to transact at Whinbury. Have you brought your exercise- book, child?’
‘Yes. What time will you return, Robert?’
‘I generally return at seven. Do you wish me to be at home earlier?’
‘Try rather to be back by six. It is not absolutely dark at six now; but by seven daylight is quite gone.’
‘And what danger is to be apprehended, Caroline, when daylight is gone? What peril do you conceive comes as the companion of darkness for me?’
‘I am not sure that I can define my fears: but we all have a certain anxiety at present about our friends. My uncle calls these times dangerous; he says, too, that mill-owners are unpopular.’
‘And I one of the most unpopular? Is not that the fact? You are reluctant to speak out plainly, but at heart you think me liable to Pearson’s fate, who was shot at—not, indeed, from behind a hedge, but in his own house, through his staircase window, as he was going to bed.’
‘Anne Pearson showed me the bullet in the chamber door,’ remarked Caroline gravely, as she folded her mantle and arranged it and her muff on a side-table. ‘You know,’ she continued, ‘there is a hedge all the way along the road from here to Whinbury, and there are the Fieldhead plantations to pass. But you will be back by six, or before?’
‘Certainly he will,’ affirmed Hortense. ‘And now, my child, prepare your lessons for repetition, while I put the peas to soak for the pur\da\ee at dinner.’
With this direction she left the room.
‘You suspect I have many enemies, then, Caroline,’ said Mr. Moore, ‘and, doubtless, you know me to be destitute of friends?’