“Yes, yes; but I mean to alter that. I’ll make it fit to live in, fit to bring a young bride to. Fetch the plans, Slummers; I’ll go over them at once, this minute. Yes, I will change the place till the very trees shall not know it. Fetch the plans! I’ll pull the whole of it down, every stick and stone! I hate it—hate it! I’ll change the name! I can do it. I can do anything now, or what is the use of this money? Fetch the plans! Fetch——” He broke off suddenly and staggered.
Slummers sprang nervously forward and caught him, and putting him into a chair, poured out some neat brandy and gave it to him.
Stephen tugged at his collar and struggled for a moment, then sank back helplessly.
“Stop!” he said, “stay here. Don’t go. I—I can hear voices—an old man’s voice—what is it?”
“Nothing—nothing,” said Slummers. “Be calm, sir.”
“Calm—I am calm!” retorted Stephen. “It’s this beastly house, it’s full of noises! Give me some brandy—and—get the time table. I’ll go to London to-morrow, Slummers. Yes, I’ll go to London!”
And the master of Hurst, the owner of a million and more, sank back in his chair and fingered the time table with trembling fingers.
CHAPTER XXVI.
“Jack Newcombe!” exclaimed Mrs. Davenant, looking at the card which Mary had brought in. “Jack Newcombe!” she repeated a second time. “My dear, come here!”