"Just in time, Arbuthnot! Come and give me your arm, there's a good fellow. Annerley, this is Mr. Arbuthnot, my agent."
Lord Annerley returned my greeting with a slightly patronising air, and then we walked across the hall to the dining-room, Sir Francis leaning heavily on my shoulder.
Maud had noticed me only by the merest inclination of her stately head, and during dinner-time she never addressed a single observation to me, her attention seeming wholly absorbed by her companion. Lady Olive, although at first she rattled on in her usual style, seemed always watching for an opportunity to join in their conversation, and when at last she found it seemed almost to forget my existence. They talked of people whom I did not know, and subjects in which I had no interest, but I was well content to be left alone. I was in no mood for talking, and to answer Sir Francis's few inquiries was quite enough for me.
We were about half-way through dinner when suddenly Sir Francis held up his finger and cried "Hush!"
Every one stopped talking, and I who had also heard the sound sprung to my feet. It came again in a second or two, three sharp reports from the direction of the park.
"Poachers, by G—d!" exclaimed Sir Francis, angrily, "and in the home spinneys, too! The cheeky rascals!"
I was half-way across the room before he had finished speaking.
"Take care of yourself, my boy," he called out earnestly. "You'll find my revolver in the top drawer of my cabinet in the library. See that it's loaded. By Jove, I wish my foot was right! Annerley, I don't know whether you care about a row as much as I did when I was a youngster; but if you do, pray go with Arbuthnot. My niece will excuse you."
Lord Annerley did not seem to find that keen prospect of pleasure in the affray, which was doubtless proceeding, that Sir Francis would certainly have done, for as I hurried from the room I heard him mutter something about his boots being rather thin. An irresistible impulse made me glance for a moment into Maud's face whilst he was elaborately excusing himself, and I was satisfied. A slight but distinctly contemptuous expression had stolen into it.
I was scarcely a moment in the library, for the revolver was in its place and loaded. As I hurried down the hall, Sir Francis hobbled out of the drawing-room.