"Yes, if you were within a mile of her you couldn't help doing that," he says, dryly. "Well, good-by, old chap. Don't trouble about the nags."
"They are all right," says Yorke. "I'll bring them back safe and sound——."
"When the coast's clear," finishes the young fellow; and with a smile and a nod, he picks up his stick, and goes off.
Yorke Auchester stands where his friend has left him, and looks out to sea, with a troubled countenance; stares so long, and so lost in thought that it would seem as if he had forgotten his own party. It is not often that the young man has a moody fit, but he has it now, and very badly.
But presently there comes down to him the faint sound of Leslie Lisle's soft, musical laugh—how striking a contrast to that of the young lady whom he has just got rid of! and he wakes from his unpleasant reverie and climbs up to the tower.
The duke is leaning back with an amused and interested smile on his face, which is turned towards Leslie, and it is evident that he is happier and more contented than usual.
"Miss Lisle has just been giving me a description of the Portmaris folks. You have missed something, Yorke," he says, with a laugh. "Have the savages disappeared?"
"Quite," says Yorke; "and if Miss Lisle and her father would like to look round, the coast is now clear."
"You go, papa," says Leslie, with her usual unselfishness; "and I will stay with Mr. Temple."