“Oh, it did take more time than we expected, but it was worth the trouble when we did find him.” In spite of his anxiety, Mr. Payton’s eyes twinkled at the memory.
“But what did he do?” Phil broke in. “How did he take the news?”
“Running, I guess. Before I had half finished explaining to the lawyer, he was off on a dead run for the chateau. Didn’t even wait to hear about the will.”
“Then he doesn’t know yet?” Phil cried.
“Of course he does, silly,” said Lucile, with the air of one who knows all there is to know of such matters. “Don’t you suppose Jeanette has told him long before this?”
Again Phil retreated gracefully. “Well, you know the lady,” he admitted.
The rest of the trip passed quickly in visioning the joyful reunion of the two young lovers, and it was not till 182 they were fairly upon the inn that the grim specter of war again intruded itself.
They found the same feverish excitement there as elsewhere, for the newspapers had arrived with the mail and the dire news spread like wildfire.
As Jack took his leave, saying that he had promised his uncle to spend the night with him, but would return the first thing in the morning, uncle and all, to accompany them home, he drew Lucile aside for a moment.
“Mighty hard luck, not seeing the lights, after all,” he whispered, “but there may be other times.”