“I put up at the White Hart at S——,” said he, as he threw down on the table a card for Vibert. “I find the accommodation fair, very fair, but my stay in the town is uncertain. I hope that we shall soon meet again,” and the colonel shook the hand of Mr. Trevor, but a good deal less cordially than he had done on his first introduction to the father of Emmie.
“We do not echo his hope,” observed Bruce, as soon as the visitor had tramped out of the house.
“Who can this low-bred talkative fellow be?” said Mr. Trevor. “It is not difficult for an impostor to pass himself off as a colonel, when those who would have proofs of his being so must seek for them at the other side of the Atlantic Ocean.”
“I doubt this man’s being American at all,” observed Bruce. “I did not detect in his speech the peculiar Yankee accent, though it was interlarded with Yankee phrases.”
“I shall not encourage this colonel’s coming about the house,” said Mr. Trevor, walking up to the window. “Why, there’s Vibert accompanying him down the drive!”
“And they look hand and glove,” added Bruce. “How they are laughing and talking together!”
“Vibert is young and unsuspicious,” observed Mr. Trevor, as he turned from the window; “his generous, frank disposition lays him peculiarly open to deception. We must make some inquiries at S—— regarding this Colonel Standish. Your tutor, Mr. Blair, may know something of the man, and the character which he bears.”
“I will not forget to gain what information I can,” said Bruce Trevor.