Читать книгу A Son of Ishmael. A Novel онлайн

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When an hour later Rowton returned to the Bungalow, Samson met him in the porch.

“Scrivener has come,” he said.

“Scrivener! I did not expect him to-day,” said Rowton, a frown gathering between his thick brows.

“He has come, sir, and he wants to see you; he is waiting in the dining-room. There is a good bit of excitement about him—I cannot tell what the news can be.”

“Well, I’ll go to him,” said Rowton; “don’t keep me, Samson.”

“When will you want the horse saddled, sir? You are going to catch the two o’clock train, are you not?”

“No, I have changed my mind. I shall not leave here before night or early to-morrow morning; get back to your work now, don’t keep me.”

The man favoured Rowton with a keen glance; he then turned softly on his heel, whistling as he did so.

“Gone out in his best clothes,” he remarked to himself; “come back again with the airs of a lord; changes his plans when there is danger in the wind. Now, what does this mean? Seems to me it ain’t far to guess—sweethearting, and marrying, and giving in marriage. Good Heaven! if this sort of thing goes on we are all lost.”