“Kidnapped!” Gideon threw over his shoulder, and drove on towards the posting-inn.
Mr. Liversedge, who had been sitting wrapped in his own thoughts, gave a genteel little cough, and said: “Another relative, I collect, Captain Ware? Possibly—er—Mr. Matthew Ware?”
“You seem to be remarkably well-acquainted with my family!” returned Gideon shortly.
“No,” said Mr. Liversedge sadly. “Had I been better acquainted with them—But it is useless to repine! So that is Mr. Ware! Dear me, yes! Strange how the dice will sometimes fall against one, do what one will! I wish I had had the good fortune to have met Mr. Ware earlier. He is just the kind of young man I had supposed him to be. I am not one of those who are unable to judge a matter dispassionately, and I will own that although I might have a personal preference for Mr. Ware, his Grace is the better man.”
“You are right,” said Gideon, “but what you are talking about I have not the remotest guess!”
“And I wish with all my heart,” said Mr. Liversedge, with feeling, “that you might never have the remotest guess, sir!”
Both carriages had by this, time reached the George. Gideon sprang down from the curricle, and strode into the house, closely followed by his agitated young cousin, but any hope that Mr. Liversedge might fleetingly have cherished of making good his escape was frustrated by Wragby, who conducted him into the inn in a manner strongly reminiscent of his days in the army.
Gideon having demanded a private parlour, the whole party was conducted to a small apartment on the first floor. Matthew was barely able to contain himself until the door was closed. He burst out into speech as soon as the waiter had withdrawn, exclaiming: “You said he had been kidnapped! But I don’t understand; It was all over! He wrote to me that it was!”
“ What was all over?” demanded Gideon.
“Oh, Gideon!” said Matthew wretchedly, “it is all my fault! I wish I had never told Gilly about it! Who has kidnapped him? And how did you come to hear of it?”