‘Then where’s the horse? ‘Jervase demanded.
‘I don’t know,’ said James. ‘He has been here before, he knows his way to the stables. I—I heard him clattering off in that direction, I am almost sure.’ He made a pitiable attempt to collect himself, and prattled on. ‘Oh, yes, I am quite sure now—he clattered off towards the stables—I remember—he has been here before, and he would know his way. He’s in the grounds in any case, for I know that the gate closed behind him.’
‘Why didn’t you stop for half a minute, anyhow? ‘asked Jervase, who was glad of a chance to recover a seeming of composure for himself under the shelter of a pretended anger. ‘Why didn’t you give somebody the word in place of leaving a valuable beast like that wandering about in a tempest?
‘I don’t know,’ James answered, as feebly as ever. ‘I was in a hurry to get in.’
At this his cousin’s temper broke altogether, or he was willing to relieve the tension of his own mind by allowing it to seem as if it did so.
‘Of all the funking, skunking, silly cowardly devils——’
The General took him by the arm with a commanding grip.
‘You forget, my good Jervase, you forget—my daughter is present, and she is not accustomed to have her ears assailed by that sort of language.’
‘I beg your pardon,’ said Jervase, suddenly cooling down. ‘I beg ten thousand pardons—I beg Miss Irene’s pardon most of all. I forgot myself, and I apologise.’
He bowed to the girl and fell to pacing up and down the room, casting glances of wrath at the messenger of ill news.