Mr. Pike appropriated the gaze.
"Yes, you may stare, young Rip!" he apostrophized, as if the boy could
hear him; "but you won't stare yourself out of my hands. You're the
biggest liar in Calne, but you don't mislead me."
"Pike, when you made acquaintance with that man Gorton--you remember
him?" broke off Lord Hartledon.
"Yes, I do," said Pike emphatically.
"Did he make you acquainted with any of his private affairs?--his past
history?"
"Not a word," answered Pike, looking still after the cart and the boy.
"Were those fine whiskers of his false? that red hair?"
Pike turned his head quickly. The question had aroused him.
"False hair and whiskers! I never knew it was the fashion to wear them."
"It may be convenient sometimes, even if not the fashion," observed Lord
Hartledon, his tone full of cynical meaning; and Mr. Pike surreptitiously
peered at him with his small light eyes.
"If Gorton's hair was false, I never noticed it, that's all; I never saw
him without a hat, that I remember, except in that inquest-room."
"Had he been to Australia?"
Pike paused to take another surreptitious gaze.
"Can't say, my lord. Never heard."
"Was his name Gorton, or Gordon? Come, Pike," continued Lord Hartledon,
good-humouredly, "there's a sort of mutual alliance between you and me;
you did me a service once unasked, and I allow you to live free and
undisturbed on my ground.
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