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Updated: June 17, 2025
Fearful of knowing the worst, he lingered about the office until all the other workmen had been in and come out again jingling their wages. But the master and his brother Thomas had been taking counsel together about the matter. Mr. Wyley was for turning the boy off at once, and reducing him to the utmost straits of poverty; but his more prudent brother was opposed to this plan.
Then "What game is this he's playing?" he said, with a jerk of his head to the door by which Knightley had gone out. "I have no mind to be played with." "But is he playing a game at all?" asked Wyley. Scrope faced him quickly, looked him over for a second, and replied: "You are a new-comer to Tangier, or you would not have asked that question." "I should," rejoined Wyley with complete confidence.
Wyley kept large sums of money in his house, and no place in the whole country-side was more securely fastened up by day or night.
He saluted the Major, and Wyley noticed that with his uniform he seemed to have drawn on something of a soldierly confidence. "There's your supper, lad," said Shackleton, pointing to a few poor herrings and a crust of bread which an orderly had spread upon the table. "It is scanty." "I like it the better," said Knightley with a laugh; "for so I am assured I am at home, in Tangier.
The house in which it burned lay so nearly beneath them that they could command a corner of the square open patio in the middle of it; and the light shone in a window set in that corner and giving on to the patio. "You see that house?" said the Major. "Yes," said Wyley. "It is Scrope's. I have seen him enter and come out." "No doubt," said the Major; "but it is Knightley's house." "Knightley's!
Then the light burning in the window is " The Major nodded. "She is still in Tangier. And never a care for him has troubled her for two years, not so much as would bring a pucker to her pretty forehead all my arrears of pay to a guinea-piece." Wyley leaned across the rail of the balcony, watching the light, and as he watched he was aware that his feelings and his thoughts changed.
A young, hard-working man could make a very tidy living up here; and we shall have a respectable house, instead of a pauper's family. 'It will be a benefit to the neighbourhood, observed Thomas Wyley.
The lime and bricks from my own works will not cost me much more than the expense of bringing them up here. 'And a very pretty little hill-farm you'll make of it, James, replied Thomas Wyley admiringly. 'I should not wonder now if you got £20 a year rent for it. 'I shall get £25 in a few years, said the other one: 'just think of the run for ponies on the hill, to say nothing of sheep.
'Good evening, my lad, said James Wyley, smiling a slow, reluctant smile, as Stephen drew near to them with his cap in his hand. 'So you buried your father yesterday, I hear. Poor fellow! there was not a better collier at Botfield than James Fern. 'Never troubled his parish for a sixpence, added Thomas Wyley.
There was a variation, too, in the strength of the taps now they fell light, now they struck hard. Scrope was quite unconsciously beating out upon the table a particular tune, although, since there was but the one note sounded, Wyley could get no more than an elusive hint of its character. Knightley watched Scrope for a little as earnestly as the rest. Then "Harry!" he said, "Harry Scrope!"
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