It is quite out of the range of possibility. The Ashtons are not
people to seek legal reparation for injury of this sort. But that your
fears are blinding you, you would never suspect them of being capable of
it."
"The stranger is upstairs, my lord," interrupted Hedges, coming back to
the room. "I asked him what name, and he said your lordship would know
him when you saw him, and there was no need to give it."
Lord Hartledon went upstairs, marshalled by the butler. Hedges was
resenting the mystery; very much on his master's account, a little on his
own, for it cannot be denied that he was given to curiosity. He threw
open the door of the little smoking-den, and in his loftiest, loudest,
most uncompromising voice, announced:
"The gentleman, my lord."
Then retired, and shut them in.
Thomas Carr remained alone. He was not fond of wine, and did not
help himself during his host's absence. Five minutes, ten minutes,
half-an-hour, an hour; and still he was alone. At the end of the first
half-hour he began to think Val a long time; at the end of the hour he
feared something must have happened. Could he be quarrelling with the
mysterious stranger? Could he have forgotten him and gone out? Could
he--
The door softly opened, and Lord Hartledon came in. Was it Lord
Hartledon? Thomas Carr rose from his chair in amazement and dread. It was
like him, but with some awful terror upon him.
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