"What does it matter?" Leonetta cried. "Really, I'm sure it's all right."
He looked up. There was no sign of the three fugitives, and he allowed her to turn round.
"Now we must step it out, I'm afraid," he said.
Leonetta laughed gleefully. "What fun, isn't it?" she chirped. "I wonder how it fell off!"
"Simply one of those strange accidents which go to determine the course of our lives," he observed calmly. "By accidentally throwing a tennis ball further than he intended, Sir Sidney Smith was ultimately able to decide the fate of Napoleon's campaign in Syria; the British Throne was once lost by just such an accident as this, and Kellermann's charge at Marengo was of the same order."
She looked up into his thoughtful face. His self-possession was one of the most wonderful features about him.
"What do you mean?" she exclaimed. "I hardly know whether you are serious or not."
"Have you never heard," he pursued, "of the story of that priceless Arabian pearl, which, after it had been missing for months was ultimately returned to its owner by a bird? Meanwhile, however, the owner in question had been robbed of all he possessed, and the pearl itself would certainly have gone too, if it had not been accidentally hidden where only the bird could have found it. One day the bird was killed, the treasure was found in its nest, and the owner was restored to a state of affluence, of which, if the pearl had not originally been lost, he must have despaired till the end of his days.
"You are walking fast," said Leonetta breathlessly.
"Yes,—do you mind?"