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(Away from the Inn – Gardenia Boffin’s place)
‘Well now, who’s this come riding lickety-split up my path?’ Gardenia twitched the curtains away from the window and narrowed her eyes. ‘My, my,’ she went on, leaning as close in as she could, her nose touching against the window’s pane. ‘I’d swear it was that Will from the Perch.’ ‘You know, the lad who works in the stable,’ she went on, turning her head toward Hugh. Hugh rose from his chair and peered out the window. ‘Indeed!’
Gardenia waved him toward the door as she went to fill the teapot with more hot water. She cut a few more generous slices of seedcake and had set out another plate and mug just as Hugh was welcoming Will at the door. ‘Come on in lad and set yourself down,’ she said pointing toward his new laid place at the table. ‘You must be tired. I saw you coming at right quick pace.’ Before he could answer, she had poured him a cup of steaming tea and set a slice of seedcake on his plate. ‘What brings you up here, Will?’
Hugh sat himself back at his place at the table and helped himself to more tea and cake. Before he could take one bite or drink, his mouth dropped open at what Will was saying.
Celandine Brandybuck had gone missing! Sometime in the night, he gathered. And there was some question Will said about a letter she’d gotten just yesterday and whether it had something to do with her disappearance.
‘Now I don’t know what the letter said,’ Hugh began, putting on a very official postman look. ‘Never look into others private matters!’ he declared. Then, with a half abashed look did amend that he might just take a little peek inside if the address were smudged . . . . ‘But only enough to see who it’s going to, you know! And this one was clear as day, in a nice bold hand, too.’
He sat back in his chair, a considering look on his face. ‘It was a great, fat letter,’ he went on. ‘And there was a note on it too, on the back where it was sealed. Where it was come from, I think. And not one of your usual places, neither!’ He frowned, trying to remember.
At Will’s urging, Hugh had agreed to come to the inn and talk to the sheriff. ‘Well, maybe I’ll think of it on our way back,’ he said as he and Will prepared to mount up and head to the Perch.
Gardenia, not one to let guests go without a little something to tide them over, had quickly fixed up two napkins tied up securely with slices of seedcake within. These she handed to the two fellows once they’d mounted their ponies along with a small flask each of sweet tea.
‘Now you bring those back,’ she instructed Hugh, handing up the flasks and napkin wrapped bundles. She stood back and waved them off as they turned and trotted down the path. It was all Gardenia could do not to do a sprightly dance as she watched them disappear round a turn in the hill. Her neighbors would be green with envy at her news from the inn. She ran back in to the house to fetch her little cloak and was soon making her way to old Granny Whitfoot’s place.
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