The morn came chill and grey. A drear wind was abroad; the pale dust whirled down the highway. I waited in the cold for a good half-hour—the sun was up, and the countryside leaping in its light from blackness and greyness into the rich green of spring—ere the coach and pair bearing Mr. Bradbury approached, driven rapidly from Chelton. As the driver pulled up for me, Mr. Bradbury’s gloved hand let down the glass; nodding his head to me in welcome, he hastened to admit me into the coach. It had been repaired from the damages of its overthrow; it was cushioned luxuriously; my body sank into its warm depth, and Mr. Bradbury, with all politeness, hastened to wrap a robe of furs about me for the chill of the morning. He embarrassed me by his close scrutiny; I assumed that he regarded superciliously my rustic appearance in the best clothes I had; realising my confusion, he said, laughing, “Forgive me, Mr. Craike, I marvel only that a lady of your mother’s intelligence should ever have thought to keep your kinship to the Craikes a secret.”
“She has left me, sir, very much in the dark,” I told him. “A week since I was John Howe. To-day I am John Craike and ride with you. I do not understand your interest in me.”
“Mr. Craike,” he said, leaning towards me, “if you have your father’s look, you have a little of your mother’s, too. I esteem highly her prudence and intelligence. And, sir, your likeness to your mother encourages me to be frank and open with you, realising that, whatever passes between us is said in confidence,—I, acting in your interest, and in the interest of Mr. Edward Craike, whose adviser I have the honour to be.”
“To be sure, sir, I ask for frankness, and pledge my word of honour to you.”
He said earnestly, “Mr. Craike, in serving your interest I believe that I shall best serve the interest of my client. I purpose, to be sure, to take you to London and prepare you for presentation to your grandfather. I purpose to accompany you to his house. You are by no means assured of a welcome from him; you are assured only of the hostility of your Uncle Charles,—your mother’s enemy—and mine! Ay,—and mine! I have a purpose in promoting your interests. I have the purpose of keeping from the inheritance of a great estate—Charles Craike!”