Blotting it carefully, I gave it into his hands, at the same time asking him to read it, lest my writing should not be decipherable and any question might be asked concerning it. As he read I watched his face intently. Never shall I forget the expression that swept over it. I had scored a complete victory. The shaft went home. But only for an instant. With wonderful alacrity he recovered himself and, shaking me feebly by the hand, bade me good-bye, promising to see that my message was properly delivered.
When he had gone I laid myself back in my chair for a good think. The situation was a peculiar one in every way. If he were up to some devilry I had probably warned him. If not, why had he betrayed himself so openly.
Half an hour later an answer to my first telegram arrived and, such is the working of Fate, it necessitated my immediate return to London. I had been thinking of going for some days past, but had put it off. Now it was arranged for me.
As I did not know whether I should return to Bournemouth again, I determined to call upon the Marquis to bid him good-bye. Accordingly, donning my hat, I set off for the house.
If Burke may be believed, the Duke of Glenbarth possesses houses in half the counties of the kingdom; but I am told his seaside residence takes precedence of them all in his affections. Standing well out on the cliffs, it commands a lovely view of the bay—looks towards the Purbeck Hills on the right, and the Isle of Wight and Hengestbury Head on the left. The house itself, as far as I could tell, left nothing to be desired, and the grounds had been beautified and cultivated in the highest form of landscape gardening.
