The Marquis of Buckleigh was Lord Turfleigh's elder brother, and, if the news were true, Lord Turfleigh was now the marquis, and a rich man.
Drake understand the note of satisfaction in the whisky-shaken voice.
"Just time to catch the train!" said the new marquis. "Where the devil is Luce? I always said Buckleigh would drown himself——Where is Luce? She thinks I'll go without her; but I won't!" He swore.
At that moment Lady Luce came down the stairs. She was coming down slowly, reluctantly, her fair face set sullenly; but at sight of Drake her expression changed, and she ran down to him. There might yet be time for the one word.
"Drake!" she cried, in a low voice, "I am going——You have heard?"
"Yes, yes," her father broke in testily. "I've told him. Get in. It will be a near thing as it is. Come on, I tell you!" and he shambled down the steps to the carriage.
She held Drake's hand and looked into his eyes appealingly.
"You see! I must go!" she murmured.
He nodded gravely.
"But you will come back?" he said, as gravely. "Come back as soon as you can."