She looked at him steadily, as she replied: "I rode over there yesterday, and found them all in great trouble. They
told me Mr. Vermont, acting under your orders, had refused to grant them
new leases. I promised to speak to Uncle Phillip; but you know how angry
he gets whenever any one mentions Mr. Vermont's name, so I thought I
would ask you myself." She blushed crimson, as if at her own boldness.
"Of course, you mustn't do it just on my account, but--"
"Mustn't I?" interrupted her cousin, looking keenly, almost
affectionately at the slim, girlish figure, and pretty piquant face. "I
should certainty grant whatever you asked me if it lay in my power. As a
matter of fact, however, I think Jasper said that, as they were unable
to make Briar Farm pay, would I lower the rent; and as that would be
creating a precedent for all the other tenants--I refused."
Lady Constance nodded her head. "Quite right," she agreed; "but I happen
to know that the farm does pay splendidly, and--"
"In any case, Constance," interrupted Adrien, almost tenderly, "it is
quite sufficient, if you wish it so. But I think--I am sure--Jasper must
have made a mistake."
Lady Constance did not reply, but wisely changed the subject; she was
too clever to pursue her advantage, and she had gained her point--sown
the least little doubt of Mr. Jasper Vermont's rectitude in Adrien's
mind.
Meanwhile, Mr. Vermont had also betaken himself to the stables; but he
did not ask to see "King Cole"--contenting himself with beaming
admiringly on Mr. Markham, while the head groom held forth on all the
precautions he was taking with regard to the precious animal's safety.
"An' if he's got at, Mr. Vermont, sir, I'll eat my head," was his
parting speech.
In reply to which Mr. Vermont murmured inaudibly, as he walked away:
"It's a lucky job, my good fellow, that I shan't make you keep your
word!"
At the end of the plantation, beyond the stable buildings, there was a
little cottage attached to the straw-yard. Having reached this, Jasper
listened attentively; then, without any warning knock, he lifted the
latch, and entered.
To all appearances the room was empty, save for some pieces of poor
furniture. But the visitor, blinking at the sudden transition from light
to darkness, walked over to a rough couch, where lay the misshapen
jockey Peacock, either asleep or deep in thought. Jasper shook him
angrily by the shoulder, and a sullen scowl darkened the little
monkey-like face as he recognised his visitor.