Nye stared at him. “If that’s what you mean to do, you’d best make haste, sir. It don’t take them more than two minutes to change the horses, and they’ll be off the moment that’s done.”
“Go and tell them to wait!” ordered Sir Tristram. “I have but to get my hat and coat.”
“They won’t wait, sir!” expostulated Nye. “They’ve got their time to keep, and you’ve no ticket!”
“Never mind that! Hurry, man!” said Sir Tristram, thrusting him before him out of the room.
“But what are you going to do?” cried Eustacie, running after them.
“I’ve no time to waste in explaining that now!” replied Sir Tristram, already halfway up the stairs.
Miss Thane, following in a more leisurely fashion with Ludovic, said darkly: “I said it was a Plot. It’s my belief he is absconding.” She discovered that her butt was already out of hearing, and added: “There! How provoking! That remark was quite wasted. Who would have supposed that the wretched creature would be taken with such a frenzy?”
Sir Tristram reappeared again at this moment, his coat over his arm, his hat in his hand. As he ran down the stairs, he said: “I hope to return tomorrow if all goes well. For God’s sake take care of yourself, Ludovic!”
He was across the coffee-room and out of the door almost before they could fetch their breath. Miss Thane, blinking, said: “If only we had a horse ready saddled!”
“Why? Isn’t the mail enough for him?” inquired Ludovic.