Page:The Dark Frigate (Hawes).djvu/54

“Come, chuck,” he coaxed her, “let bygones lie. Tell me, will he turn his hand to help his brother?”

She laughed curtly. “The last time he spoke your name, he said he would put his hand in his pocket to pay the sexton that dug your grave and would find pleasure in so doing; but that he ’d then let you lie with never a stone to mark the place, and if the world forgot you as soon as he, the better for him.”

“But sure he could not mean it?”

“He did.”

Martin swore vilely under his breath.

From the kitchen came the landlady’s voice. “Nell Entick, Nell, I say! Gad-about! Good-for-nought!”

“Go to the stable,” she whispered, “and tell them I sent you to wait there. She 'll be in better humour in an hour’s time. It may be I can even bring you in here.”

She shot another glance over Martin’s shoulder at the slim form of Phil Marsham and went away smiling.

Few in the stable looked twice at the two strangers in worn coats and dusty shoes who entered and sat on a bench by the wall, for there is as much pride of place in a stable as in a palace. There was talk of racing and hunting and fairs, and the beasts champed their oats, and everywhere was the smell of horses and harness. Presently there came from the inn a coachman in livery and him they greeted with nods and good-morrows, for he was sleek and well fed and, after a manner, haughty, which commanded their respect. He sat down among them affably, as one conscious of his place in the world but desiring—provided they recognized him as a man of position—to be magnanimous to all; and after inquiring into the welfare of his horses he spoke of the weather and the roads.