"There’s Lloyd’s signal station away at the point yonder. I go over now and again for a crack and a smoke with an old messmate of mine."
"Four mile or so. You go past Mr. Crawshay’s, then sheer off to the left and get into the old coastguard track over the cliffs."
"I’ll take a walk out there some day. We haven’t seen much of the neighbourhood yet. There’s no signal station in the village, of course."
"No; we’re too far from the sea. Have ’ee heard what they’re saying about Mr. Pratt, sir?"
"Ah, poor gentleman. ’Tis feared he’ve gone a-lost, or been swallered by lions, or summat. ’Tis the end of many a poor traveller."
"Why do they fear that? Is there any news?"
"No; that’s where ’tis; there be no news at all. ’Tis five weeks since he went off, not a soul knowing, as his way is; and Susan Barter up at post office was saying only yesterday that there’s not been a single line from him to any o’ they people at the house. ’Tis never been knowed afore. As a rule there’s a letter from Paris, or Marseilles, or Brindisi--ay, from places farther away; but this time not a line. He’ll be missed in the parish, sir, if so be he’ve gone aloft, like poor Tom Bowling."
Rogers proceeded to relate anecdotes of his landlord--instances of his peppery outbursts and splenetic quarrels with his county neighbours, but more of kindly deeds and unobtrusive generosity among his poorer tenants.
"And your friend be his nephew, to be sure!" he added. "Well, don’t worrit the poor young gent yet awhile. No news is good news; maybe there’ll be word of him one of these days. Susan Barter is sure to tell us."
Presently Pratt returned, laden with sundry parcels. The boys took leave of Rogers, and by half-past twelve were back in camp. Armstrong had nothing to report. He declined at first to make one of the tea-party, but when the spin of a coin elected him against Pratt, he yielded to Warrender’s argument that it would appear discourteous if only one of them accepted the invitation. Promptly at half-past four the two, wearing grey flannels for the occasion, entered the grounds of Mr. Crawshay’s house, and were met on the drive by the owner himself.
"Glad to see you, my lads," he said, heartily. "You’ve something to tell me? I guessed it. Now, not a word before the ladies. I haven’t told them anything of your troubles; best not to disturb them, you know. We’ll have a talk in private, after tea."