Lord Mulgrave, about to consign his letters to his pockets, paused. He might as well see what Brown and Usher had to say. He cut the envelopes carefully with a pocket-knife, being the most methodical of men, and drew out first of all Brown’s estimate for so many yards of netting.
Then he examined the other. At the first glance, at the words “astonishing discovery,” he simply lifted his eyebrows. At the second glance, he read on with colourless face to the bottom of the page; he turned it with a trembling hand—he finished the letter, three sides of a sheet—crushed it up, rose abruptly to his feet, and walked away.
“Hullo!” exclaimed the little colonel, looking up suddenly, “I am afraid his lordship has had bad news?” and he turned his head, and watched the tall, active, tweed-clad form, striding towards the banks of a foaming mountain torrent, where the figure seated itself in an attitude which implied, “Leave me alone. I wish for my own company!”
“Perhaps something has disagreed with him,” muttered a man who did not like Lord Mulgrave’s cold and courteous manners.
“Perhaps so,” assented the little colonel; “you have never agreed with him, and I heard you just now abusing his pet scheme for compulsory service.”
“And he jumped down my throat, spurs and all.”
“Well, it must come to that, sooner or later. The world’s conditions are changing. Can a half-armed people survive, when the whole of the rest of the world is trained to arms? The growth of immense foreign armies is introducing new problems into British national life, whilst all the omens point to the probability that England’s position will be challenged in the near future! Diplomacy may do much, but, as Napoleon said, diplomacy without an armed force behind it, is like music without instruments!”
“My dear chap,” sneered the other, “you talk like a newspaper correspondent.”
“I do. I am actually quoting the Press.”
“Oh, I bar these big questions. Sufficient to the day is the evil thereof. I suppose we are going to the west beat after this?”