CHAPTER IX
IN SEARCH OF THE QUARREL
As Law turned away from the door of the Knollys mansion, he walked with head bent forward, not looking upon the one hand or the other. He raised his eyes only when a passing horseman had called thrice to him.
"What!" cried Sir Arthur Pembroke. "I little looked to see you here, Mr. Law. I thought it more likely you were engaged in other business—"
"Meaning by that—?"
"What should I mean, except that I supposed you preparing for your little affair with Wilson?"
"My little affair?"
"Certainly, with Wilson, as I said. I saw our friend Castleton but now, and he advised me of your promptness. He had searched for you for days, he being chosen by Wilson for his friend—and said he had at last found you in your lodgings. Egad! I have mistook your kidney completely. Never in London was a duel brought on so swift. 'Fight? This afternoon!' said you. Jove! but the young bloods laughed when they heard of it. 'Bloody Scotland' is what they have christened you at the Green Lion. 'He said to me,' said Charlie, 'that he was slow to find a quarrel, but since this quarrel was brought home to him, 'twere meet 'twere soon finished. He thought, forsooth, that four o'clock of the afternoon were late enough.' Gad! But you might have given Wilson time at least for one more dinner."
"What do you mean?" exclaimed Law, mystified still.
"Mean! Why, I mean that I've been scouring London to find you. My faith, man, but thou'rt a sudden actor! Where caught you this unseemly haste?"