At the door to the kitchen, he called out, ‘Pottiswick!’ The old man came out, shoving his chin in the air and glaring. Usually his charges bored him with their interrogative chatter, for he knew that his information more often than not went into one ear and out of the other. "Perhaps," replied Wood, doubtfully. “You frighten me!” He smiled at her indulgently. Stanley, with an imperious gesture, “to come in here. The Jacobite. I should like to know how it is concerned with Sir John Ferringhall, and how my presence intervenes.
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