Instead of sending a messenger, Fabian put his fastest horse into his lightest wagon, and set off at his best speed himself. He reached North End Hotel in twenty minutes, and burst in upon Clarence, finding that gentleman seated in an arm chair before a coal fire.
"Anything the matter, Fabian?" he inquired, looking up in surprise.
"Yes! The devil's to pay! The monarch has driven his granddaughter from court!" exclaimed the elder brother, throwing his hat upon the floor, and dropping into a chair.
"You don't mean to say—"
"Yes, I do! Father has turned Cora out of doors because she refused to marry the Englishman."
"Good Heaven!"
"Come! There is no time to talk! Cora is at my house. She leaves for Washington to join Captain and Mrs. Neville, and go out with them to Fort Farthermost."
"But, look here, Fabian. Why do you let her do that?"
"Don't be a fool! Who is to stop her if she is bound to go? Come, hurry up; put on your overcoat and get into my trap, and I will take you back with me, see Cora, and stay all night with us."
Mr. Clarence started up, rang for a waiter to see to his rooms, then put on his overcoat, and in five minutes more he was seated beside his brother in the light wagon, behind the fastest horse in Mr. Fabian's stables, bowling out of the village at a rate of speed that I would not dare to state. It was not nine o'clock when they reached Violet Banks.