"But do you really mean to say that if--if
Chatfield thought you--that is, your mother--were mixed up in anything
relating to the clearing up of this affair he would--"
"Drive us out without mercy," replied Audrey. "That's dead certain."
"And that your cousin would let him?" exclaimed Copplestone.
"Surely not!"
"I don't think the Squire has any control over Chatfield," she answered.
"You have seen them together."
"If that's so," said Copplestone, "I shall begin to think there is
something queer about the Squire in the way your mother suggests. It
looks as if Chatfield had a hold on him. And in that case--"
He suddenly broke off as a smart automobile drove up to the cottage door
and set down a tall, distinguished-looking man who after a glance at the
little house walked quickly up the garden. Audrey's face showed surprise.
"Mother!" she said, turning to Mrs. Greyle. "There's Lord Altmore here!
He must want you. Or shall I go?"
Mrs. Greyle quitted the room hastily. The others heard her welcome the
visitor, lead him up the tiny hall; they heard a door shut. Audrey looked
at Copplestone.
"You've heard of Lord Altmore, haven't you?" she said. "He's our
biggest man in these parts--he owns all the country at the back,
mountains, valleys, everything. The Greyle land shuts him off from the
sea. In the old days, Greyles and Altmores used to fight over their
boundaries, and--"
Mrs.
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