"What the devil are you talking about?" Macloud inquired, pausing with his waistcoat half on.
"What the devil do you think I'm talking about?" Croyden demanded.
"Not being a success at solving riddles, I give it up."
"Oh, very well!" said Croyden. "Can you comprehend this:--I'm going to leave town?"
"Certainly--that's plain English. When are you going?"
"He is coming to it, at last," he thought. What he said was:--"You're not going to be put to flight by a woman?"
"Most people would not call that _losing_," said Macloud.
"I have nothing to do with most people--only, with myself."
"It seems so!--even Elaine isn't to be considered."
"I don't know--but, if we have, go over it again."
"You assume she came down here solely on my account--because I'm here?"
"I assume nothing," Macloud answered, with a quiet chuckle. "I said you have a chance, and urged you not to let it slip. I should not have offered any suggestion--I admit that----"
"Oh, bosh!" Croyden interrupted. "Don't be so humble--you're rather proud of your interference."
"I am! Certainly, I am! I'm only sorry it is so unavailing."
"You did!--or, at least, I inferred as much."
"I'm not responsible for your inferences."
"What are you responsible for?" asked Macloud.
"Nothing! Nothing!--not even for my resolution--I haven't any--I can't make any that holds. I'm worse than a weather-cock. Common sense bids me go. Desire clamors for me to stay--to hasten over to Ashburton--to put it to the test. When I get to Ashburton, common sense will be in control. When I come away, desire will tug me back, again--and so on, and so on--and so on."
"You're in a bad way!" laughed Macloud. "You need a cock-tail, instead of a weather-cock. Come on! if we are to dine at the Carringtons' at seven, we would better be moving. Having thrown the blue funk, usual to a man in your position, you'll now settle down to business."
"Let future events determine--take it as it comes," Macloud urged.
"Sage advice!" returned Croyden mockingly. "If I let future events decide for me, the end's already fixed."
The big clock on the landing was chiming seven when they rang the bell at Ashburton and the maid ushered them into the drawing-room. Mrs. Carrington was out of town, visiting in an adjoining county, and the Captain had not appeared. He came down stairs a moment later, and took Macloud and Croyden over to the library.
