"That's our plan, too. I dare say we shall be starting about the same time, and if so, if you don't mind, we might join forces."
"Now, what is this chap's game?" I asked myself. "He isn't drawing me out for nothing; and as these two are together they have no need of companionship. There's some special reason why they want to join us."
Taking this for granted, the one reason which occurred to me as probable, was a previous acquaintance with the Boy, which they wished to keep up, and he did not wish to acknowledge. I determined that he should not be thus entrapped, through me.
"That would be very pleasant, no doubt," I replied; "but you had better not wait for us. Our time of starting is uncertain."
Though I spoke with perfect civility, it must have been clear to them that I preferred not to have my party enlarged by strangers, and I rather regretted the necessity for this ungraciousness, as the men were gentlemen, and I usually got on excellently with Americans.
"Oh, very well," returned the handsomer of the two, looking slightly offended. "We shall meet on the way down, perhaps. By-the-by, if I'm not mistaken, your young friend is a compatriot of ours. He's American, isn't he?"
"Yes."
"I believe I've met him in New York, though it was so dark I couldn't be sure. Do you object to telling me his name?"
"I'm afraid I do object," I answered, stiffly this time. "You must satisfy yourself as to his identity, if it interests you, when you see each other to-morrow."
Of all that remained of dinner, I can only say the words which Hamlet spoke in dying; for indeed, "the rest was silence."