“George!” called Mr. Quest after him, rising from his chair, “George!” but George was out of hearing.
“Now what did he mean by that—what the devil did he mean?” said Mr. Quest with a gasp as he sat down again. “Surely,” he thought, “that man cannot have got hold of anything about Edith. Impossible, impossible; if he had he would have said more, he would not have confined himself to hinting, that would take a cleverer man, he would have shown his hand. He must have been speaking at random to frighten me, I suppose. By heaven! what a thing it would be if he _had_ got hold of something. Ruin! absolute ruin! I’ll settle up this business as soon as I can and leave the country; I can’t stand the strain, it’s like having a sword over one’s head. I’ve half a mind to leave it in somebody else’s hands and go at once. No, for that would look like running away. It must be all rubbish; how could he know anything about it?”
So shaken was he, however, that though he tried once and yet again, he found it impossible to settle himself down to work till he had taken a couple of glasses of sherry from the decanter in the cupboard. Even as he did so he wondered if the shadow of the sword disturbed him so much, how he would be affected if it ever was his lot to face the glimmer of its naked blade.
No further letter came to Edward Cossey from the Castle, but, impatient as he was to do so, another fortnight elapsed before he was able to see Ida and her father. At last one fine December morning for the first time since his accident he was allowed to take carriage exercise, and his first drive was to Honham Castle.
When the Squire, who was sitting in the vestibule writing letters, saw a poor pallid man, rolled up in fur, with a white face scarred with shot marks and black rings round his large dark eyes, being helped from a closed carriage, he did not know who it was, and called to Ida, who was passing along the passage, to tell him.
Of course she recognised her admirer instantly, and wished to leave the room, but her father prevented her.
“You got into this mess,” he said, forgetting how and for whom she got into it, “and now you must get out of it in your own way.”
When Edward, having been assisted into the room, saw Ida standing there, all the blood in his wasted body seemed to rush into his pallid face.