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Then he grunted and the sound was one of satisfaction, for his tremendous rate of progress had served its object and already, creeping on the main road far ahead, he saw the vehicle which held the mail. Meanwhile Blanchard and the man-servant stood and watched John Grimbal's furious departure. "Pity," said Will. "No call to do it. I've took his word, an' the end 's the same, letter or no letter.
Pick it up; and it's lucky Clement ban't home, for he'd have said some harsh words, I'm thinking. Keep it 'gainst the rainy days up to Newtake. And it may surprise 'e to knaw that my son's worth be getting found out at last. It won't be so long 'fore he takes awver Squire Grimbal's farm to the Red House. What do 'e think o' that? He've gone to see un this very day 'bout it." "Well, well!
Phoebe Lyddon awoke a very vital train of thoughts, and when he left her, promising to come with his brother on the following day to see the miller, John Grimbal's impressionable heart was stamped with her pretty image, his ear still held the melody of her voice.
'Twas so unlikely a morning, I never thought to hear of a swarm to-day. I'll start at once, and you go home quietly. You're sadly out of breath. Where is it?" "To the Red House Mr. Grimbal's. It may lead to the handlin' of his hives for all us can say, if you do the job vitty, as you 'm bound to." "John Grimbal's!" Hicks stood still as though this announcement had turned him into stone. "Ess fay!
There was a pause; Blanchard stared cold and hard into Grimbal's eyes; then John continued, and his flicker of passion cooled a little as he did so, "At least that's what I said to myself when first I heard this little bit of news that I'd ruin you; now I'm not sure." "At least I'll thank you to make up your mind. 'T is turn an' turn about. You be uppermost just this minute.
Indeed, Blanchard fretted and chafed alone now; for John Grimbal's sustained silence had long ago convinced Mr. Lyddon that the master of the Red House meant no active harm, and Phoebe readily grasped at the same conclusion.
"I'm forgetting all I've got to tell 'e, though I've news enough for a buke," he said. "How's Jan Grimbal, fust plaace?" "On his legs again an' out o' danger if the Lunnon doctor knaws anything. A hunderd guineas they say that chap have had! Your name was danced to a mad tune 'pon Grimbal's lips 'fore his senses corned back to un. Why for I caan't tell 'e.
John Grimbal's pipe went out; his dog, weary of waiting, crept to his feet and fell asleep there; live fur and feathers peeped about and scanned his bent figure, immobile as a tree-trunk that supported it; and the gun, lying at hand, drew down a white light from a gathering gloaming. One great desire was in the sportsman's mind, he already found himself hungry for another meeting with Blanchard.
"She must wait for a man who is a man, somebody of good sense and good standing, with property to his name." Miller Lyddon noted with surprise and satisfaction John Grimbal's warmth of manner upon this question; he observed also the stout, hearty body of him, and the handsome face that crowned it.
It was a favourite excursion of theirs to accompany their uncle on Saturdays when he motored to visit patients at Chagmouth. On these occasions they would have lunch and tea with him at Grimbal's Farm, where he had his surgery, and would spend the intervening time on the seashore or wandering along the cliffs.
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