Mr. John gave
him a word of welcome; and then the whole group went slowly together
back to the house, with the two men following. Sir Thomas stumbled a
little going up the two or three steps into the hall. Then they all sat
down together; the servant put a big flagon and a horn tumbler beside
the traveller, and went out, closing the doors.
"Now, my man," said Mr. John. "Do you eat and drink while I do the
talking. I understand you are a man of your hands, and that you have
business elsewhere."
"I must be in Lancashire by the end of the week, sir."
"Very well, then. We have business enough for you, God knows! This is
Mistress Manners, whom you may have heard of. And after you have looked
at the places we have here--you understand me?--Mistress Manners wants
you at her house at Booth's Edge.... You have any papers?"
Owen leaned back and drew out a paper from his bag of tools.
"This is from Mr. Fenton, sir."
Mr. John glanced at the address; then he turned it over and broke the
seal. He stared for a moment at the open sheet.
"Why, it is blank!" he said.
Owen smiled. He was a grave-looking lad of eighteen or nineteen years
old; and his face lighted up very pleasantly.
"I have had that trick played on me before, sir, in my travels. I
understand that Catholic gentlemen do so sometimes to try the fidelity
of the messenger."
The other laughed out loud, throwing back his head.
"Why, that is a poor compliment!" he said.
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