"It would--if I could believe it," observed Mr. Jobling, valiantly. "But--"
"And neither will you, if you worry me," added Captain Dove in a voice which seemed to affect his neighbour's nerve very adversely. "So help yourself to another peg and pass the bottle. I can scarcely hear myself think for your chatter, and I've got a good deal to think about."
Mr. Jobling did his very best to meet the old man's irate glance resolutely, but his own irresolute, blinking eyes soon fell before the cold menace in Captain Dove's. He replenished his glass, and having sulkily shoved the decanter across the table, lay back in his chair.
"You said that she could draw her money on Friday, didn't you?" asked Captain Dove, and he nodded, with very ill grace.
"And Slyne has her power of attorney to sign any cheques he likes to write," the old man went on musingly. "But--that doesn't matter. Brasse will be ashore to-night. And we'll be off to London to-morrow, me an' you, Jobling, d'ye hear?"
Mr. Jobling could not deny that he heard, and did not seem inclined to ask any more questions. But Captain Dove had a great many more to ask him, and when Slyne looked into the room, some time later, he found the two of them chatting quite amicably. They both fell silent, however, at sight of him.
"Lady Josceline is entertaining visitors," he announced: "the Duchess of Dawn--and that unlicked cub Ingoldsby."
"Lord Ingoldsby's her grace's nephew, of course," Mr. Jobling mentioned reverentially. "And one of the wealthiest peers in England--or anywhere else. But--how did they get here? Dawn's on the other side of the mountains, and--"
"They rode across," said Slyne, "to find out who was here. If Dove hadn't ordered the beacon to be lighted the night we arrived, they'd never have heard--But maybe, after all, it will help--
"They're going to dine and stay the night, anyhow. It's come on to snow again.
"There's a great hullabaloo below-stairs," he said in a somewhat querulous tone as he crossed toward the fireplace and helped himself to a cigarette from the silver box on the mantel. "One of the gamekeepers sent in word that he had seen the 'white lady' about in the woods this afternoon. And now an hysterical housemaid is having fits in the servants' hall, on the insufficient ground that she had met the same mysterious personage in one of the passages a little ago. The whole outfit, in fact, are in the very devil of a fluster."