Mr. Timms said insinuatingly: “If your lordship would permit me to place one patch — one only — ”
The Marquis got up. “Content yourself with my perfect proportions, Timms,” he said. “Where’s that fellow Fletcher?” He strode out, calling to his major-domo, who came sedately up the stairs to meet him. “Well, man, are those damned lackeys to be all day about their business?” he demanded.
“John, my lord, is come in. At the Porte Saint-Denis, no one. At the Porte Saint-Martin, no one. I await the return of Robert and Mitchell, my lord, and will apprise your lordship instantly.”
“No luck at the northern gates,” the Marquis said, musing. “So he’s not taking her back to England. Now what the devil’s his game?”
Ten minutes later Fletcher came to find him again, and said impassively: “Robert reports, my lord, that shortly before noon a travelling chaise passed out of Paris by the Port Royal. It contained an Englishman who spoke French very indifferently, and one lady.”
The Marquis’s hand clutched on his riding-whip. “Dijon!” he said, with, something of a snarl. “Damn his infernal impudence! Have the bay saddled, Fletcher, and send me a man to take a note to Miss Marling.” He sat down at the writing-desk, and jabbed a quill in the standish. He scrawled one line only to his cousin. “ They’re off to Dijon. I leave Paris in half an hour. ”Having given this to a lackey, he picked up his hat and went off to Foley, his grace of Avon’s banker.
When he returned, twenty minutes later, his light chaise was already awaiting him in the courtyard, and his groom was walking the bay up and down. A lackey was in the act of placing two band boxes in the chaise, but was checked by a thunderous demand to know what the devil he was about.
“They belong to the lady, my lord,” explained the lackey nervously.
“Lady? What lady?” said Vidal, astonished.
He was answered by the appearance of his cousin in the big doorway. Miss Marling had on a highly becoming hat, tied under her chin with pink ribands, and carried a feather-muff. Her face wore a look of mulish determination. “Oh, so there you are at last, Vidal!” she said.