[CHAPTER LVIII.]
"THE KING IS DEAD.----"
Mr. George Dashwood was of opinion that things at the Hall were not as they used to be in the old days. In the first place he had been compelled to walk up from the station after ordering a trap to meet him on his return from Longtown, and now he could see no sign of dinner. He had come downstairs in a temper, and had looked into the dining-room as he passed.
It was eight o'clock to the moment; there was no sign of dinner. The banks of ferns and the great silver bowls of roses were there, but nothing else. Dashwood forgot for the moment that he was no longer master of the house, and rang the bell. Slight came in presently. He was still wearing his morning coat.
"What is the meaning of this?" Dashwood demanded. "I ordered a trap to meet me at the station and no trap appears. Then I came back here to dinner, of which I see no sign. Have the servants left the house in a body?"
"No, sir," Slight replied. "We have had a trying day. In the first place the police----"
"Oh, the police, have they been here? Is there any clue to the mysterious attack upon Mr.--er, Ralph Darnley? I had to go into Longtown today; I did not expect to get back here till late. If your master has suddenly been called to town----"
"He has vanished, sir," Slight said. "you may not be so very much surprised to hear that he was at the bottom of the attack on Mr. Ralph--leastways I'll speak of him as Mr. Ralph for the present. In a manner of speaking, it was I who found the whole thing out. Perhaps it was foolish of me to do so, but I couldn't help letting that rascal know all about it. He went off in a great hurry this morning, and I for one shall be very much surprised if we ever see him again. In a manner of speaking, we are like a lot of servants in bear cages--nobody to look after us or give any orders. Me and the housekeeper are doing what we can, sir, in the hopes that Lady Dashwood will come over tomorrow and take charge. And that's why your dinner is forgotten."
"We will let it pass," Dashwood said with great magnanimity. "In the present extraordinary circumstances, I suppose that I cannot complain. If you could get me some cold chicken and salad, Slight, I dare say I could manage. And perhaps you will be so good as to wait on me yourself, seeing that you are so far in the confidences of the family. And perhaps you will give me an idea of what has happened."
The salad and chicken were served presently, and the meal together with the champagne, went far to salve Dashwood's wounded dignity. A cigarette completed the process.