“I have lost my money, Mark,” said Talbot, coming forward, and perceiving with much anxiety that his young friend was engaged in a conversation. “Let us move about and see the dancers.”
“Wait a few seconds first,” said Mark, sternly, “and satisfy this gentleman that I am not in fault in coming here, save so far as being induced by you to do so.”
“May I ask how the gentleman feels called on to require the explanation?” said Talbot, proudly.
“I wish him to know the circumstances,” said Mark.
“And I,” said Travers, interrupting, “might claim a right to ask it, as first aide-de-camp to his Excellency.”
“So, then,” whispered Talbot, with a smile, “it is the mere impertinence of office.”
Travers' face flushed up, and his his quivered, as in an equally low tone of voice he said—
“Where and when, sir, will you dare to repeat these words?”
“To-morrow morning, at seven o'clock, on the strand below Clontarf, and in this gentleman's presence,” said Talbot into his ear.
A nod from Travers completed the arrangement, and Talbot, placing his arm hurriedly within Mark's, said—