CHAPTER V.
A BARGAIN It was nearly a fortnight after Colonel Elliot's death that Jeff Ironside went to the stable somewhat suddenly one morning, saddled his mare, and, without a word to anyone, rode away.
Granny Grimshaw was the only witness of his departure, and she turned from the kitchen window with a secret smile and nod.
It was an autumn morning of mist and sunshine.

The beech trees shone golden overhead, and the robins trilled loudly from the clematis-draped hedges.

Jeff rode briskly, with too set a purpose to bestow any attention upon these things.

He took a short cut across his own land and entered the grounds belonging to the Place by a side drive seldom used.
Thence he rode direct to the front door of the great Georgian house and boldly demanded admittance.
The footman who opened to him looked him up and down interrogatively.
"Miss Elliot is at home, but I don't know if she will see anyone," he said uncompromisingly.
"Ask her!" said Jeff tersely.

"My name is Ironside." While the man was gone he took the mare to a yew tree that shadowed the drive at a few yards' distance and tied her to it.