Going into the house to get a light to read it by, Samuel remarked
that there seemed a change coming in the weather. My troubled mind had
prevented me from noticing it before. But, now my attention was roused,
I heard the dogs uneasy, and the wind moaning low. Looking up at the
sky, I saw the rack of clouds getting blacker and blacker, and hurrying
faster and faster over a watery moon. Wild weather coming--Samuel was
right, wild weather coming.
The message from my lady informed me, that the magistrate at Frizinghall
had written to remind her about the three Indians. Early in the coming
week, the rogues must needs be released, and left free to follow their
own devices. If we had any more questions to ask them, there was no
time to lose. Having forgotten to mention this, when she had last seen
Sergeant Cuff, my mistress now desired me to supply the omission. The
Indians had gone clean out of my head (as they have, no doubt, gone
clean out of yours). I didn't see much use in stirring that subject
again. However, I obeyed my orders on the spot, as a matter of course.
I found Sergeant Cuff and the gardener, with a bottle of Scotch whisky
between them, head over ears in an argument on the growing of roses.
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