“Let us get away from this, Mark. It is all settled. We meet tomorrow.”
Mark turned one look towards Kate, who was just in the act of accepting Travers' arm to return to the ball-room. Their glances met for a second, but with how different a meaning!—in hers, a world of anxiety and interest—in his, the proud and scornful defiance of one who seemed to accept of no compromise with fortune.
“So, then, it is your friend Travers, Mark, with whom I am to have the honour of a rencontre! I'm sorry, for your sake, that it is so.”
“And why so?” asked Mark, sternly, for in his present mood he was as little satisfied with Talbot as with Travers.
“Because if I don't mistake much, you will not have the opportunity of wiping out your old score with him. I'll shoot him, Mark!” These last words were uttered between his almost closed teeth, and in a tone of scarce restrained anger. “Are either of us looking very bloody-minded or savage, Mark, I wonder? for see how the people are staring and whispering as we pass!”
The observation was not made without reason, for already the two young men were regarded on all sides as they passed—the different persons in their way retiring as they approached.
“How do you do, my lord? I hope I see you well,” said Talbot, bowing familiarly to a venerable old man who stood near, and who as promptly returned his salute.
“Who is it you bowed to?” said Mark, in a whisper.
“The Chief-Justice, Mark. Not that I know him, or he me; but at this critical moment such a recognition is a certificate of character, which will at least last long enough to see us down stairs. There, let me move on first, and follow me,” and as he spoke, he edged his way through a crowded door, leaving Mark to follow how he could. This was, however a task of more difficulty than it seemed, for already a number of persons blocked up the doorway, eager to hear something which a gentleman was relating to those about him.
“I can only tell you,” continued he, “that none seems to know either of them. As Clangoff has lost the diamond snuff-box the Emperor of Austria presented him with—he missed it after leaving the card-table—the presumption is, that we are favoured with somewhat doubtful company.”