"Ah! that might be done!" cried Dunstable. "Or, stay!" he continued, a sudden idea striking him: "I have it—I have it, my dear boy!"
And his lordship seemed as overjoyed as if he himself were the individual who was unexpectedly released from a serious difficulty.
"Do not keep me in suspense," said Egerton, imploringly: "what is it that you have thought of?"
"I'll tell you in as few words as possible my boy," returned the nobleman. "It was about two years ago that I passed a short time at a place not far from London, called Ravensworth Hall. It is a splendid mansion, and has been shut up almost ever since that period. Lady Ravensworth is living somewhere on the continent, in great seclusion; and I happen to know that there is only an old gardener, with his wife, residing at the Hall."
"But I cannot understand how any thing you are now telling me bears reference to my difficulty," observed Egerton, impatiently.
"Why—don't you see!" ejaculated Lord Dunstable, slapping his friend upon the shoulder. "The gardener and his wife will not decline a five-pound note; and I dare say they are not so mighty punctilious as to refuse to allow you to call yourself the master of Ravensworth Hall for one day. What do you think of that idea?"
"I think it is most admirable," returned Egerton, his countenance brightening up—"if it can only be carried into execution."
"Will you leave it all to me?" asked Dunstable.
"I cannot possibly do better," replied Egerton. "But remember—there is no time to lose. This cursed letter must be answered to-day, or to-morrow morning at latest."
"I will ride out to Ravensworth as quickly as a thorough-bred can take me thither," said Dunstable, rising to depart. "At seven o'clock this evening I'll meet you to dine at Long's; and by that time all shall be satisfactory arranged, I can promise you."