Then the visitor had himself solved the situation by stalking out of the
house from which the squire was proposing to flog him, mounting his
horse, and with a last compliment or two had ridden away. And here he
was at Froggatt on his return journey, having eaten there that dinner
which no longer would be spread for him at Matstead.
Robin sat silent till the tale was done, and at the end of it Anthony
was striding about the room, aflame again with wrath, gesticulating and
raging aloud.
Then Robin spoke, holding up his hand for moderation. "You will have the
whole house here," he said. "Well, you have cooked my goose for me."
"Bah! that was cooked at Passiontide when you went to Booth's Edge. Do
you think he'll ever have a Papist in his house again?"
"Did he say so?"
"No; but he said enough about his 'young cub.'... Nonsense, man! Come
home with me to Dethick. We'll find occupation enough."
"Did he say he would not have me home again?"
"No," bawled Anthony. "I have told you he did not say so outright. But
he said enough to show he'd have no rebels, as he called them, in his
Protestant house! Dick's to leave. Did you hear that?"
"Dick!"
"Why, certainly. There was a to-do on Sunday, and Dick spoke his mind.
He'll come to me, he says, if you have no service for him."
Robin set his teeth. It seemed as if the pelting blows would never
cease.
"Come with me to Dethick!" said Anthony again. "I tell you--"
"Well?"
"There'll be time enough to tell you when you come.
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