"
Val put his hand up to his forehead. "I did feel something when I washed
just now," he remarked slowly, as though doubting whether anything was
wrong or not. "It must have been done--when I--struck against that tree,"
he added, apparently taxing his recollection.
"How was that?"
"I was running in the dusk, and did not notice the branch of a tree in my
way. It's nothing, Anne, and will soon go off."
Mr. Carteret came in, looking just as Val Elster had done--out of sorts.
Questions were showered upon him as to the fate of the race; but the
dowager's voice was heard above all.
"This is a pretty time to make your appearance, sir! Where's Lord
Hartledon?"
"In his room, I suppose. Hartledon never came," he added in sulky tones,
as he turned from her to the rest. "I rowed on, and on, thinking how
nicely I was distancing him, and got down, the mischief knows where.
Miles, nearly, I must have gone."
"But why did you pass the turning-point?" asked one.
"There was no turning-point," returned Mr. Carteret; "some confounded
meddler must have unmoored the boat as soon as the first race was over,
and I, like an idiot, rowed on, looking for it. All at once it came into
my mind what a way I must have gone, and I turned and waited. And might
have waited till now," he added, "for Hart never came."
"Then his arm must have failed him," exclaimed Captain Dawkes.
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