The Toll-Gate by Georgette Heyer Page A

back in an hour or two. He was not wearing his hat, or his best coat, which, in Ben's view, precludes his having had the intention of going to town."
    "He would scarcely set out for Sheffield after dark, in any event. It is more than ten miles away! How very odd it is! Are you sure that Ben is telling you the truth when he says he doesn't know where his father went?"
    "Oh, yes, quite sure! Ben is excessively frightened—partly by the thought that he may be thrown on the Parish, much more by a mysterious stranger who seems to have formed the habit of visiting the toll-house after dark, and with the utmost secrecy."
    She looked startled. "Who——?"
    "That I don't know. But I have a strong suspicion that he is in some way concerned in Brean's disappearance," John said. "And I have another, even stronger, that there's something devilish havey-cavey going on here!"
     
    CHAPTER IV.
    "WHAT makes you say that?" she asked quickly, her eyes fixed with great intentness on his face.
    He looked a little amused. "Well, ma'am, when a man does his visiting at night, and takes the most elaborate precautions against being seen, he's not commonly engaged on honest business!"
    "No. No, he cannot be, of course. But what could he be doing here? It is absurd!—it must be absurd!"
    He turned his head. "That sounds as though you have been thinking what I have said," he remarked shrewdly.
    She glanced at him, and away again. "Nonsense! You must let me tell you that you are a great deal too fanciful, Captain Staple!"
    He smiled very warmly at her. "Oh, I would let you tell me anything!" he said. "You are quite right, of course, not to confide in strangers."
    She gave a little gasp, and retorted: "Very true—if I had anything to confide! I assure you, I have not!"
    "No, don't do that," he said. "I don't mean to tease you with questions you don't care to answer. But if you think, at any time, that I could be of service to you, why, tell me!"
    "You—you are the strangest creature!" she said, on an uncertain laugh. "Pray, what service could I possibly stand in need of?"
    "I don't know that: how could I? Something is troubling you. I think I knew that," he added reflectively, "when that would-be Tulip of Fashion put you so much out of countenance this morning."
    Her chin lifted; she said, with a curling lip: "Do you think I am afraid of that counter-coxcomb?"
    "Lord, no! Why should you be?"
    She looked a trifle confounded, and said in a defiant tone: "Well, I am not!"
    "Who is he?" he enquired.
    "His name is Nathaniel Coate, and he is a friend of my cousin's."
    "Your cousin?"
    "Henry Stornaway. He is my grandfather's heir. He is at this present staying at Kellands, and Mr. Coate with him."
    "Dear me!" said John mildly. "That, of course, is enough to trouble anyone. What brings so dashing a blade into these parts?"
    "I wish I knew!" she said involuntarily.
    "Oh! I thought I did know," said John.
    She threw him a scornful look. "If you imagine that it was to fix his interest with me, you're quite out! Before he came to Kellands, I daresay he did not know of my existence: he had certainly never seen me!"
    "Perhaps he came into the country on a repairing lease," suggested John equably. "If he teases you, don't stand on ceremony! Give him his marching orders! I'm sure his waistcoat is all the crack, but he shouldn't sport it in the middle of Derbyshire."
    "Unfortunately, it is not within my power to give him his marching orders."
    "Isn't it? It is well within mine, so if you should desire to be rid of him, just send me word!" said John.
    She burst out laughing. "I begin to think you have broken loose from Bedlam, Captain Staple! Come, enough! I am sure I do not know how it comes about that I should be sitting here talking to you in this improper fashion. You must be thinking me an odd sort of a female!"
    She rose as she spoke, and he with her. He did not reply, for Ben chose that moment to appear upon the scene, with the announcement that Farmer Huggate