Before going to the family mansion, he thought it better to call at the house of farmer Thompson, and inquire into the state of things in the neighbourhood. He found nobody within, however, but the stout servant-maid, who looked at him apparently with some degree of suspicion, and gave very short answers to his questions. "She could not tell where Mr. Thompson was," she said. "She did not know whether Mr. Jennings was at the house or not. Her master might be home soon or he might not, just as it happened. He was very uncertain, 'specially just about harvest-time." "Well, my good girl," said Smeaton, "there are two things I think you must do for me. Give me a draught of milk, if you have got any, and call somebody who can tell me more." He spoke with soldier-like frankness; and the girl laughed, replying: "Milk you shall have, sir, and welcome, and I'll call somebody else; but, whether they can tell you more or not, I cannot say." Leaving him in the passage where he stood, she went away towards the back of the house, discussing with herself in half-uttered sentences the question of whom she should call. "Not Tom," she said; "for he would blurt out everything in a minute, all about the fat man up at the great house, and all. I'll call Dick Peerly. There is no getting anything out of him--at least _I_ never could." After getting a bowl of milk at the dairy, she mounted upon a stone step let into the wall of the yard, and screamed at the top of her voice to good Van Noost's first acquaintance at Keanton, who was working in the field behind. "Here, Dick, Dick Peerly," she cried, "come hither. Here is somebody wishes to speak to thee, man." Having thus vociferated, she carried the bowl to the stranger. Dick Peerly sauntered up to the house at her bidding, whistling as usual; but, as soon as he saw the visitor, he put his hand up to his forehead as a salutation, with much greater signs of respect than he had shown to Van Noost. "Can you tell me, my man, where farmer Thompson is?" asked Smeaton. "No, that I cannot, sir," replied the lad. "He may be gone to Ballimoree for aught I know." "Ballimoree!" echoed Smeaton, gazing at him. "Where is that?" "Why, you fool, Dick, cannot you give the gentleman a reasonable answer?" exclaimed the girl. "It is all his nonsense, sir. There is no such place as Ballimoree." "I only meant to say, he might be anywhere in the world, sir, for aught I knew," replied the young man, eyeing Smeaton very attentively. "But here he comes up the road, if you want to see him."