Without replying, the stranger handed him the long envelope.
Hanson took it, and drew from it a folded paper, which he opened, and found to be a notice summoning him to appear as a respondent in the suit entered by Roma Fronde for the setting aside of the fraudulent marriage ceremony that had been, without her own knowledge and consent, performed between herself and William Hanson.
“Quite right,” said the young man, with a light laugh. “I see what it is. I expected this. It has come in good time to enable me to appear promptly and put a stop to the antics of my lunatic wife and her scoundrelly counsel. This is Thursday. The hearing is set for Monday next. I shall have ample time. Sir, I would ask you to enter the house with me and take refreshments; but, as you see, I am just going away. However, if you will kindly accept the hospitalities of Guyon Hall at the moment of its master’s enforced departure, my servants are at your orders, and will make you comfortable.”
“Thank you, Mr. Hanson. I always feel quite at hame in the old house, having known it and its proprietor from youth up. I will go in and taste some of old Aunt Wilet’s applejack or cherry bounce. Don’t let me detain you,” said the officer.
And with a bow he passed the usurper and crossed the threshold.
Hanson stepped after him, and took his ulster from the peg and drew it on.
’Rusalem came downstairs, followed by the two sailors, bringing the heavy trunk, which they carried out of the house.
’Rusalem gathered up the smaller baggage and went after them.
Hanson had just finished buttoning up his ulster, and was drawing on his gloves, when Wilet made her appearance through the back door, complaining:
“Lor’s a-massy on me, young marse, wot I done to yo’ fo’ yo’ to be gwine ’way ’dout biddin’ a body good-by?”