There was no reply, save for a dull, unintelligent grunt. Captain Armitage's head was lolling over the side of his chair, his eyes were closed, his mouth open. He was asleep—he had been asleep all the while.
Rada's first impulse was to take him by the shoulders and to shake him violently, for, small as she was, she knew that she possessed more strength than he. Her nerves were tingling with suppressed passion, her cheeks were suffused with colour. She touched him on the shoulder; he stirred and muttered, then his hand went out instinctively towards the table as though in search of his glass.
Rada drew back, nauseated. She knew that it was hopeless to protest with such a man as her father—she must leave him to himself. It was for her alone to act.
A few moments later, having loosened his collar and settled him as comfortably as she could in his chair, a horrible task to which she was no stranger, she stole quietly out of the room.
That same evening, Pierce Trelawny, who had been detained by his father at Randor Park, arrived to stay the night with Mostyn at Partinborough Grange. It was too late to visit the paddocks that night, and, unfortunately, Pierce had to hurry on to London by an early train the next day; but it was arranged that Willis should take charge of his bag, so that a hurried inspection of Mostyn's purchase might be made the first thing in the morning, after which Pierce could walk or drive to the station.
The two young men had discussed the situation as they sat together in the drawing-room of the Grange after dinner. Pierce had learnt the full facts by letter, and, acting upon Mostyn's instructions, he had kept the secret to himself. He agreed with Mostyn that this was the wisest plan, though he asked, and obtained, permission to reveal everything to his uncle, Sir Roderick, who, he opined, might be of considerable assistance—if he chose—to Mostyn in a difficult task.
For himself, he was prepared to lend all the help in his power, and place his experience—such as it was—quite at Mostyn's disposition. It would distract his thoughts from Cicely, and from the hardship of his own year's probation. "The governor hasn't yielded an inch," he explained mournfully. "And, of course, I've written everything to Cicely. I can't make the old man out. He threatens me with all sorts of horrible consequences if I disobey him, and all the time there's a sort of twinkle in his eye, as if he found it amusing to bully me. But about yourself? You've got to buck up, you know. There's no time to be lost."
Mostyn acquiesced. "I've made a start by purchasing Castor," he said. "That has cost me a thousand pounds."
"Cheap, too, if the horse is all you tell me," commented the other. "Well, you may run Castor for the Guineas and for the Derby, but you mustn't neglect your other chances. What about the Royal Hunt Cup? That is the race which falls first upon your list, I believe."
Mostyn quite agreed that the Royal Hunt Cup must not be overlooked, although there only remained a fortnight or three weeks in which to purchase a horse, already entered, for this race. "I suppose I ought to have set about it before," he said rather limply, "but the fact is, you see, I've been busy getting this house in order, and——" he broke off suddenly. He did not like to tell Pierce the actual reason for which, having purchased Castor, he had remained on at Partinborough. The fact was that he had been on the look-out every day for Rada, that he could not tear himself away.