Mr. John saw the visitors first.
"Why, here is the company all arrived together," he said. "Now, if
anything hung on that--" his son broke in, uneasily.
"You are sure of young Owen?" he said. "Our lives will all hang on him
after this."
His father clapped him gently on the shoulder.
"Now, now!" he said. "I know him well enough, from my lord. He hath made
a dozen such places in this county alone."
Mr. Thomas glanced swiftly at his uncle.
"And you have spoken with him, too, uncle?"
The old man turned his melancholy eyes on him.
"Yes; I have spoken with him," he said.
* * * * *
Five minutes later Marjorie was dismounted, and was with him. She
greeted old Sir Thomas with particular respect; she had talked with him
a year ago when he was first released that he might raise his fines; and
she knew well enough that his liberty was coming to an end. In fact, he
was technically a prisoner even now; and had only been allowed to come
for a week or two from Sir Walter Aston's house before going back again
to the Fleet.
"You are come in good time," said Sir John, smiling.
"That is young Owen himself coming up the path."
There was nothing particularly noticeable about the young man who a
minute later was standing before them with his cap in his hand. He was
plainly of the working class; and he had over his shoulder a bag of
tools. He was dusty up to the knees with his long tramp.
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