“I could hardly sit still, or eat a morsel, for anyone could see that you were bursting with some great news. What is it?”
“I have two pieces of news, and I’ll give you first of all one that concerns ourselves. I saw in the Mail some weeks ago that my uncle, Julian Shafto, was dead. He had no family and left no will; and I found a letter to-day at the office from a lawyer, informing me that I, being next of kin, am heir-at-law, and succeed to the property and a fairly large income.”
“Oh, Douglas, how splendid! It sounds too good to be true!”
“I never saw my uncle; he and my father had a disagreement before I was born, and had no communication with one another. He did not even send us a line when my father died. I fancy he was a hard-bitten old bachelor. I’ve not seen the family place, Shafton Court, and don’t know much about it, except I remember my father saying there were one or two fine pictures, a fair library, and, what did not interest him, first-rate partridge shooting.”
“Oh, what a piece of good fortune! Do let us go in at once and tell Polly.”
“But would you not like to hear my other piece of news, which is even better?”
“It could not be better; but do tell me quickly.”
“FitzGerald has brought off a splendid coup up the river—run in the cocaine gang and collared no end of drugs. He is to receive the thanks of the L.G. and the Government reward.”
“How did he discover it?”
“A man I know really put him on the track. The cocaine lair was in a village, so deserted and tumble-down and haunted, that no one suspected it, or went near it. A pongye Kyoung, said to be infested by malignant nats and hundreds of snakes, was the head office. Rather a clever dodge.”