“I was speaking ironically, man,” said Mr. Squire. “By George! how you did toss and tumble in the night. If I had had an uneasy conscience, you would have kept me awake. What was the matter with you?” “With me? Nothing. I never slept sounder.” “Then you must give your wife bad nights at home. I thought it might have been your spill.” “Oh yes, to be sure it was that. I suffered in my arm and foot; and look, I’m all black and yellow this morning. I shall go back at once to Coombe Cellars.” “You will? Why, man alive, we want you at Tavistock. There is your poor uncle’s funeral, you know, to see to. I say, if we are to travel together, you won’t cry over-much, will you? I love tears, but in moderation.” “I must return to the Cellars, if only for an hour. I wish to tell Zerah’that’s my wife’our piece of good fortune’I mean, our sad bereavement. And I must put together my black clothes and get my hat.” “If it must be, it must. I wish you had been communicated with earlier.” “Earlier? Was that possible?” “Of course it was; the old gentleman died two days ago.” “Two days ago? Why, to-day is Wednesday.” “Well, his decease took place at five in the morning of Monday.” “Why did you not tell me at once?” almost shrieked Pasco, swinging from his bed, and then collapsing on his crippled foot. “Bless you, man, it was not my place to do so. I knew nothing of you; the housekeeper was the person he trusted. I came to know of it, as I managed your uncle’s affairs. When I inquired about relatives, then I heard of you, or rather got your address, and came off. You see, as he died on Monday, it won’t do for you to be away long. The housekeeper has instructions, and is a sensible woman, but you are the proper person to be on the spot.” “Is she honest? Will she make away with things?” Mr. Squire shrugged his shoulders. “I will run to Coombe; we will go in the chaise, and return to Tavistock directly I have been there. Kitty shall be driven by the boy to Brimpts in my trap.” Pasco would not have his niece at Coombe for some time if he could help it. As soon as he was dressed he was impatient to be off. He hurried breakfast, and hardly ate anything himself. He gave instructions that Kate was to be sent on at once, and was not content till he had seen her off. He had not deemed it prudent to warn her again not to speak of his return to the Cellars after leaving Coombe. To do so might excite her suspicions. Besides, she would be at Brimpts, where there was no one interested in the affairs of Coombe’no one who belonged to it. It would suffice to caution her when she came back to the Cellars, and that return he would delay on one excuse or another.