“What luck to have such a pilot to steer us through the narrow channel of proprieties,” cried Jack, laughing.
“I think, too, it would be as well to remember,” resumed Temple, “that Lord Culdufif is our guest, and to whatever accidents of acquaintanceship we may be ready to expose ourselves, we have no right to extend these casualties to him.”
“I suspect we are not likely to see his lordship to-day, at least. He has sent down his man to beg he may be excused from making his appearance at dinner: a slight attack of gout confines him to his room,” said Marion.
“That 's not the worst bit of news I 've heard to-day,” broke in Jack. “Dining in that old cove's company is the next thing to being tried by a court-martial. I fervently hope he 'll be on the sick list till I take my departure.”
“As to getting these people together to-day, it's out of the question,” said Augustus. “Let us say Saturday next, and try what we can do.”
This was agreed upon, Temple being deputed to ride over to Longworth's, leaving to his diplomacy to make what further advances events seemed to warrant,—a trustful confidence in his tact to conduct a nice negotiation being a flattery more than sufficient to recompense his trouble. Jack and Nelly would repair to the cottage to secure the L'Estranges. Craufurd could be apprised by a note.
“Has Cutbill got the gout, too?” asked Jack. “I have not seen him this morning.”
“No; that very cool gentleman took out my cob pony, Fritz, this morning at daybreak,” said Augustus, “saying he was off to the mines at Lisconnor, and would n't be back till evening.”
“And do you mean to let such a liberty pass unnoticed?” asked Temple.
“A good deal will depend upon how Fritz looks after his journey. If I see that the beast has not suffered, it is just possible I may content myself with a mere intimation that I trust the freedom may not be repeated.”