"Did you see?" I asked. "Otto Krax was on the box."
"Ay!" he answered. "And Countess Lukstein within the carriage. What takes her back so fast, I wonder? She will be in London two days before her time."
We came out again from behind the hedge, and watched the carriage dwindling to a speck along the road.
"If you will, Morrice," said my cousin, with a great reluctance, "you can let Marston journey to Bristol, and yourself follow the Countess to town."
"Nay!" said I shortly. "I have a mind to settle my accounts with Marston, and not later than this morning."
He brightened wonderfully at the words.
"'Twere indeed more than a pity to miss so promising an occasion. But as I am your Mentor for the nonce, I deemed it right to mention the alternative--though I should have thought the less of you had you taken my advice. Here comes the landlord to summon us to breakfast."
We followed him along the passage towards the kitchen. The door stood half-opened, and peeping through the crack at the hinges, we could see Marston and his friend seated at a table.
"Gentlemen," said Elmscott, stepping in with the politest bow, "will you allow two friends to join your repast?"
Marston was in the act of raising a tankard to his lips; but save that his face turned a shade paler, and his hand trembled so that a few drops of the wine were spilled upon the cloth, he betrayed none of the disappointment which my cousin had fondly anticipated. He looked at us steadily for a second, and then drained the tankard. His companion--a Mr. Cuthbert Cliffe, with whom both Elmscott and myself were acquainted--rose from his seat and welcomed us heartily. It was evident that he was in the dark as to the object of our journey. We seated ourselves opposite them on the other side of the table. Elmscott was somewhat dashed by the prosaic nature of the reception, and seemed at a loss how to broach the subject of the duel, when Marston suddenly hissed at me: