"I'm tryin' to recolleck," he said, knitting his brows, "but I can't mind more than two principal mourners. And the undertaker, when he stopped to water his horses at the inn, told Mrs. Lake as they was the doctor and the lawyer; but, relations or no, they did it wonderful well! Stood with their hats off all in the burnin' sun, and went back to look at the grave when the funeral was over."
"The household servants was there--leastways the butler and footman," said Tom Burney, a dark-eyed, gipsy-looking young man, who was one of the under-gardeners at the big house on the hill, "but not him as is coming after."
"The question is who is a-comin' after?" said Allison, in a tone of sarcastic argument. "Maybe you'll tell us, as you seem to know such a lot about it?"
Burney coloured under his dark skin, and gave an uneasy little laugh.
"I know what I've heard, no more nor less," he said; "but it comes first-hand from the butler of him who's gone."
Allison gave an incredulous sniff; he was not used to playing second fiddle, and the heads of his listeners had turned to a man in the direction of the last speaker.
"He hadn't no near relation, not bein' a married man," went on Burney, enjoying his advantage; "and Mr. Smith--that's the butler--came and walked round the garden until it was time for his train to go back to London."
"He don't pretend as the property's left to him, I suppose?" broke in Allison, jocosely.
Burney turned his shoulder slightly towards the speaker, and went on, regardless of the interruption--
"Mr. Smith says as the house up there, and all the property, goes to a young fellow not more than thirty, of the same name as the old squire; some third cousin or other."
"Hearsay! just hearsay!" ejaculated Allison, contemptuously. "Who's seen him, I should like to know? Seein's believin', they say."
"Mr. Smith has," said Burney, a ring of triumph in his voice. "He were there when old Mr. Lessing died."
There was silence for a moment. The evidence seemed conclusive, and Allison's discomfiture complete; but, as the forge was the place where the village gossips gathered every day, it was felt to be wise to keep on good terms with the owner.
"Seems as if it might be true," said Macdonald, casting a timid glance at the blacksmith.