The letter from Major Waring said:—
“I must see you immediately. Be quick and come. I begin to be of your opinion—there are some things which we must take into our own hands and deal summarily with.”
“Ay!—ay!” Robert gave tongue in the clear morning air, scenting excitement and eager for it as a hound.
More was written, which he read subsequently
“I wrong,” Percy's letter continued, “the best of women. She was
driven to my door. There is, it seems, some hope that Dahlia will
find herself free. At any rate, keep guard over her, and don't
leave her. Mrs. Lovell has herself been moving to make discoveries
down at Warbeach. Mr. Blancove has nearly quitted this sphere. She
nursed him—I was jealous!—the word's out. Truth, courage, and
suffering touch Margaret's heart.
“Yours,
“Percy.”
Jumping over a bank, Robert came upon Anthony, who was unsteadily gazing at a donkey that cropped the grass by a gate.
“Here you are,” said Robert, and took his arm.
Anthony struggled, though he knew the grasp was friendly; but he was led along: nor did Robert stop until they reached Greatham, five miles beyond Wrexby, where he entered the principal inn and called for wine.
“You want spirit: you want life,” said Robert.
Anthony knew that he wanted no wine, whatever his needs might be. Yet the tender ecstacy of being paid for was irresistible, and he drank, saying, “Just one glass, then.”