"I have never set eyes on him from that day to this--to this," he added.
"And this morning in the open street in Derby whom should I meet with
but young Merton and his father. (Her Grace's servants have suffered
horribly since last year. But that is a tale for another day.) Well: I
stopped to speak with these two. The young man hath left Mr. Melville's
service a while back, it seems; and is to try his fortune in France.
Well; we were speaking of this and that, when who should come by but a
party of men and my lord Shrewsbury in the midst, riding with Mr. Roger
Columbell; and immediately behind them my friend of the 'New Inn' of
Fotheringay. It was all the ill-fortune in the world that it should be
at such moment; if he had seen me alone he would have thought no more of
me; but seeing me with young Jack Merton, he looked from one to the
other. And I will stake my hat he knew me again."
Marjorie was looking full at him now.
"What was my lord Shrewsbury doing in Derby with Mr. Columbell?" mused
Mr. John, biting his moustaches.
"It was the very question I put to myself," said Robin. "And I took the
liberty of seeing where they went. They went to Mr. Columbell's own
house, and indoors of it. The serving-men held the horses at the door. I
watched them awhile from Mr. Biddell's window; but they were still there
when I came away at last."
"What hour was that?" asked the old man.
"That would be after dinner-time.
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