The Count shrugged his shoulders and smiled slightly.
“Permit me to keep my word in the letter, if not in the spirit,” he answered. “I am going to spend my evening in this way; I am going, first of all, to a theatre for an hour or so; then I am going to call at a couple of clubs, and afterwards I am going to a club of a somewhat different sort. If you like to be my companion for the evening I shall be charmed; and if it should happen that we run up against any friend of yours—well, the world is not so very large, after all.”
“Thanks. I’ll come with you with pleasure!” I answered without hesitation.
He stood up underneath the soft glare of the electric light, and as I turned towards him something in his face puzzled me. It was gone directly my eyes met his—gone, but not before it had left a curious impression. It seemed almost as though a triumphant light had flashed for an instant in his bright, steel-coloured eyes.
CHAPTER XLIII.
ABOUT TOWN.
We passed up the heavily-carpeted steps into the central hall of the hotel. The Count stopped for a moment to inquire for letters at the chief porter’s bureau, and as we turned away we came face to face with Lord Langerdale.
He hesitated when he saw us together, but only for a moment. Then he advanced with a genial smile upon his well-cut, handsome face.
“You’re the very man I wanted to see, de Cartienne,” he said. “I suppose you know your young friend’s name by this time? Will you introduce us?”
The Count looked distinctly annoyed, but he complied at once.
“Lord Langerdale,” he said coldly, “this is Mr. Morton. Mr. Morton—Lord Langerdale.”