CHAPTER XI.
IDA’S BARGAIN
When Ida saw the Colonel coming, she put on her sweetest smile and took his outstretched hand.
“How do you do, Colonel Quaritch?” she said. “It is very good of you to come, especially as you don’t play tennis much—by the way, I hope you have been studying that cypher, for I am sure it is a cypher.”
“I studied it for half-an-hour before I went to bed last night, Miss de la Molle, and for the life of me I could not make anything out of it, and what’s more, I don’t think that there is anything to make out.”
“Ah,” she answered with a sigh, “I wish there was.”
“Well, I’ll have another try at it. What will you give me if I find it out?” he said with a smile which lighted up his rugged face most pleasantly.
“Anything you like to ask and that I can give,” she answered in a tone of earnestness which struck him as peculiar, for of course he did not know the news that she had just heard from Mr. Quest.
Then for the first time for many years, Harold Quaritch delivered himself of a speech that might have been capable of a tender and hidden meaning.
“I am afraid,” he said, bowing, “that if I came to claim the reward, I should ask for more even than you would be inclined to give.”
Ida blushed a little. “We can consider that when you do come, Colonel Quaritch—excuse me, but here are Mrs. Quest and Mr. Cossey, and I must go and say how do you do.”