"I came to ask if you would like to sup with Mr. Courtnay to-night?" said the unscrupulous Tinker.
"Ah, le bel Artur!" cried the lady. "But with pleasure. Where?"
"Oh, in the restaurant of the hotel," said Tinker.
The lady's face fell a little; she would have preferred to sup in a less public place, one more suited to protestations of devotion.
"At about eleven?" she said.
"At half past," said Tinker. "And I think he'd like a note from you accepting—it—it would please him, I'm sure. He—he—could take it out, and look at it, you know." It was a little clumsy; but, though he had thought it out carefully, it was the best that he could do.
"You think so? What a lot we know about these things!" said Madame de Belle-Île with a pleased laugh; and she went forthwith to the écritoire, and in ten minutes composed the tenderest of billets-doux. Tinker received it from her with a very lively satisfaction, and after a few bonbons, and a desultory chat with her, escorted her down to the Casino.
The rest of the day seemed very long to his impatience, while to Claire, harassed by vague doubt and real dread, it seemed exceedingly short. When the hour for action came, she braced herself, by an effort, to play her part; but it was with a sinking heart that she stole, thickly veiled, and bearing a small hand-bag, out of the hotel and down to the station. She was far too troubled to notice that she was followed by two guardian angels in the shape of a small boy and a brindled bull-terrier.
Courtnay met her on the top of the steps which lead down to the station; and when she found him in a most inharmonious mood of triumph, she began, even so early, to repent of her rashness. Then went down to the station as the train des décavés, the train of the stony-broke, steamed in; and they settled themselves in an empty first-class compartment. Her heart seemed to sink to her shoes as she felt the train move. Then the door opened, and, hauling the panting Blazer by the scruff of his neck, Tinker tumbled into the carriage.
Claire gave a great gasp of relief: the sight of him gave her a faint hope of escape; his presence was a respite. Tinker lifted Blazer on to the seat between him and Courtnay, crying cheerfully, "I thought I'd just missed you! I've got a note for you from Madame de Belle-Île, and I knew she'd never forgive me if I didn't give it to you!"