CHAPTER XVII
AN ANTI-TOXINE
They rowed over, and were in mid-water when the landau drove up to the house. It had been sent in for Mr. Dalrymple early in the forenoon. They saw nothing, however, until they landed, when the equipage was proceeding on its way to the stables, having deposited the guest. At this discovery, the Duke's excitement knew no bounds, so Olivia urged him to run on and leave her; and he took her advice, chiefly regretting that he had missed the proud moment of welcoming his old boss in the hall.
Jack regretted this the more when he reached the house. There was Dalrymple of Carara beginning his visit by roundly abusing the butler in the very portico! The guest was in a towering passion, the butler in a palsy of senile agitation; and between them on the step lay Dalrymple's Gladstone bag.
"What is the matter?" cried Jack, rushing up with a very blank face. "Stebbings, what's this? What has he done, Mr. Dalrymple?"
"Refused to take in my bag! Says it's the footman's place!"
"Then what's he here for? The man must be drunk. Are you, Stebbings?"
The butler murmured an inarticulate reply.
"Get to your pantry, sir!" roared Jack. "You shall hear more of this when you are sober. Old servant or new servant, out you clear!"
And he took up the bag himself, as Stebbings gave a glassy stare and staggered off without a word.