“Yes, I heard that.”
“Well, the squire couldn’t take the message, and so he asked the rector to do it. And the rector promised everything the squire wanted, and then, when it was too late to go back from his word, he remembered that he had to make a sick call on a man that was given over by the doctors, and might have to stay with him all night. And I was there, and heard him bewailing his dilemma, and—what could a gentleman do? I offered to take the message to Port Tobacco, and wait there for the answer.”
“Well, and to make a long story short, you went there and took the opportunity to stay all night and go on a lark among them low-life tavern people—you, the only adopted nephew and namesake of a lady descended from the Duke of England! I’m ashamed of you!” said Miss Bayard, wrathfully.
“I went there, and gave the message at the telegraph office, and waited for an answer until the office closed for the night. Then I went to the quietest hotel I could find——”
“Oh, yes, I know you did!” ironically interpolated the old lady.
“And I just took a chop and a cup of coffee, and went to bed,” continued the youth, without noticing the interruption. “And the first thing the next morning I went to the office, and waited until it was opened. And the first telegram that came clicking over the wires was the one I waited for. And, as soon as ever I got it, I only waited to swallow a cup of coffee and a roll, mounted my horse, and hurried back to the rectory. And as soon as I gave his reverence the telegram I set off here!”
“And I have been that anxious about you!” whimpered the old lady. “And now, tell me, did you know anything about that woman a being of that furriner’s wife when you fetched her here to my house?”
“Yes, aunty, I knew it.”
“And why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I was sworn to secrecy! And, if I had not been sworn, still, I could never have betrayed a woman’s confidence. The adopted nephew of the Duke of England’s descendant could never do that, you know!” said the boy, with a sly twinkle in his blue eyes.