Mr. Rolfe was surprised at this, since, at their last meeting, she was writhing at her inaction. He began to puzzle himself. She watched him keenly. He thought to himself, “Perhaps she dreads the excitement of meeting—for herself.”
At last Lady Bassett asked him how long it would take to liberate Sir Charles.
“Not quite a week, if Richard Bassett is well advised. If he fights desperately it may take a fortnight. In any case I don't leave the work an hour till it is done. I can delay, and I can fight; but I never mix the two. Come, Lady Bassett, there is something on your mind you don't like to say. Well, what does it matter? I will pack my bag, and write to Dr. Suaby that he may expect me soon; but I will wait till I get a line from you to go ahead. Then I'll go down that instant and do the work.”
This proposal was clearly agreeable to Lady Bassett, and she thanked him.
“You need not waste words over it,” said he. “Write one word, 'ACT!' That will be the shortest letter you ever wrote.”
The rest of the conversation is not worth recording.
Mr. Rolfe instructed a young solicitor minutely, packed his bag, and waited.
But day after day went by, and the order never came to act.
Mr. Rolfe was surprised at this, and began to ask himself whether he could have been deceived in this lady's affection for her husband. But he rejected that. Then he asked himself whether it might have cooled. He had known a very short incarceration produce that fatal effect. Both husband and wife interested him, and he began to get irritated at the delay.
Sir Charles's letters made him think they had already wasted time.