Fear had this man.
CHAPTER VIII.
Panic At Dippleford Admiral.
I.
George left Dippleford Admiral that night.
He left at great speed. There was no sadness of farewell. There was no
farewell.
Returning at seven o'clock to his sitting-room at the inn, melancholy
beneath a hungry and brooding day in the woods with the Rose tethered
to a tree by the length of two handkerchiefs, he ordered supper--
milk, fish, and chops.
Mrs. Pinner asked him if that would be all. She and 'usband were going
to a chapel meeting; the servant girl was out; there would only be a
young man in the bar.
George took the news gratefully. His nerves had been upon the stretch
all day. It was comforting to think that for a few hours he and this
vile cat would have the house to themselves.
Immediately Mrs. Pinner left the room he greedily fell to upon the
chops. All day he had eaten nothing: the Rose must wait. Three parts
of a tankard of ale was sliding at a long and delectable draught down
upon his meal when the slam of a door, footsteps and a bawling voice
in the yard told him that Mrs. Pinner and 'usband had started,
chatting pleasantly, for their chapel meeting.
The dish cleared, George arranged his prisoner's supper; stepped to
the basket to fetch her to it. As he lifted her splendid form there
came from behind him an exclamation, an agitated scuffling.
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