The Toll-Gate by Georgette Heyer Read Free Book Online

that Brean has gone away? But why should you take his place? Are you doing it for a wager?"
    "No, but now that you come to suggest it I see that that might not be at all a bad notion," he said.
    "I wish you will be serious!" she begged, trying to frown and succeeding only in laughing.
    "I am very serious. On the whole, I believe I shall do better to announce myself to be a cousin of Brean's."
    "No one would credit such a tale, I assure you!"
    "Don't you think so? I can talk cant with the best, you know."
    She made a despairing gesture. "I don't understand a word of this!"
    The groom, who had been staring very hard at John, said: "Seems to me there's something smoky going on here. If you ain't playing a May-game, sir; nor cutting a sham——"
    "I'm not, but I agree with you that there's something smoky going on," John interrupted. "The gatekeeper went off two nights ago, and hasn't been seen since."
    "Well, that's very bad," acknowledged Miss Stornaway. "But I do not see why you should take his place!"
    "But you must see that Ben is a great deal too young to remain here alone!" John pointed out.
    "You are the oddest creature! How do you come here? Why—— Oh, I wish you will explain it to me!"
    "I will," he promised. "It is quite a long story, however. Won't you step down from your gig? I shan't invite you to come into the toll-house, for although I have induced Ben to sweep out the kitchen it is not at all tidy, but we could sit on the bench."
    Her eyes danced; it seemed as if she were half inclined to fall in with this suggestion, but at that moment the groom said something to her in a low voice, directing her attention to the road ahead.
    Coming towards the gate, on a showy-looking hack, was a thickset man, rather too fashionably attired for his surroundings. He wore white hunting-tops, a florid waistcoat with several fobs and seals depending from it, a blue coat with long tails and very large buttons, and a beaver hat with a exaggeratedly curled brim.
    The laughter went out of Miss Stornaway's eyes; she said rather hurriedly: "Some other time, perhaps. Please to open the gate now!"
    John went to it immediately. It had a fifteen foot clearance, and the man on the grey hack reined in short of its sweep towards him. He looked rather narrowly at John for a moment, but rode forward as soon as the gate stood wide enough, and reined in alongside the gig. The beaver was doffed with a flourish, revealing exquisitely pomaded and curled black locks.
    "Ah, Miss Nell, you stole a march on us, did you not?" challenged the gentleman jovially. "But I have found you out, you see, and come to meet you!"
    "I have been to Church, sir, if that is what you mean," Miss Stornaway replied coldly.
    "Sweet piety! You will allow me to escort you home!"
    "I cannot prevent you from doing so, sir, but I am sorry you should have put yourself to the trouble of coming to meet me. It was unnecessary," said Miss Stornaway, whipping up her horse.
    John shut the gate, and went back into the toll-house. A strong aroma of onions assailed him, from which he inferred that Ben considered it was time to start cooking dinner. He went into the kitchen, and said abruptly: "Ben, did you tell me that there is a woman who comes here to clean the place?"
    "Ay, Mrs. Skeffling. She comes Wednesdays. She washes the duds too," replied Ben. "We has a roast, Wednesdays, and a pudden, and all. Coo, she's a prime cook, she is!"
    "We must have her every day," John said decidedly.
    "Every day?" gasped Ben, nearly upsetting the pan he was holding over the fire. "Whatever for, gov'nor?"
    "To keep the house clean, and cook the dinner, of course. Where does she live?"
    "Down the road. But she has to have a sow's baby every time!"
    "In that case, I shall have to go to market and buy a litter of pigs," said John. He perceived that Ben was looking quite amazed, and laughed. "Never mind! How much is a sow's baby?"
    "A half-horde—sixpence! Properly turned-up we'd be!"
    "Don't bother your