The large French window of the dining-room, opening to the ground, was
flung back by Val Elster; and he stepped forth into the cool night, which
was beautifully fine. The room looked towards the river. The velvet lawn,
wet with the day's rain, lay calm and silent under the bright stars; the
flowers, clustering around far and wide, gave out their sweet and heavy
night perfume. Not an instant had he been outside when he became
conscious that some figure was gliding towards him--was almost close to
him; and he recognised Mr. Pike. Yes, that worthy gentleman appeared to
be only then arriving on his evening visit: in point of fact, he had been
glued ear and eye to the window during the quarrel.
"What do you want?" demanded Mr. Elster.
"Well, I came up here hoping to get a word with you, sir," replied the
man in his rough, abrupt manner, more in character with his appearance
and lawless reputation than with his accent and unmistakable
intelligence. "There was a nasty accident a few hours ago: that shark
came across his lordship."
"I know he did," savagely spoke Val. "The result of your informing him
that I was Lord Hartledon."
"I did it for the best, Mr. Elster. He'd have nabbed you that very time,
but for my putting him off the scent as I did."
"Yes, yes, I am aware you did it for the best, and I suppose it turned
out to be so," quickly replied Val, some of his native kindliness
resuming its sway.
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