There was a beat of hoofs and rattle of wheels behind the trees that shrouded the lawn, and five minutes later Violet and Tony Palliser crossed the strip of turf. Miss Earle lighted the spirit lamp, and for a space they talked of nothing in particular, while the pale blue flame burnt unwaveringly in the hot, still air. Then when the dainty cups were passed round Violet Wayne said—
“I think you told me yesterday the effigy reminded you of somebody you had seen, Miss Harding.”
“Yes,” said Nettie, “it did. I don’t mean that the face was like his, because that would be too absurd, but it was the expression—the strength and weariness in it—that impressed me. The man I am thinking of looked just like that when he kept watch one long night through.”
“How do you know he did?” asked Hester.
“Because I was there. I sat by a little lattice and watched him, knowing that my safety depended upon his vigilance.”
“That was why Miss Harding was anxious to see you, Tony,” said Hester Earle. “I almost fancy she is disappointed now.”
Tony, who sat with half-closed eyes, teacup in hand, in his chair, looked up and smiled languidly. “I think it is just a little rough on me that I should be expected to emulate the fortitude an unknown sculptor hewed into a marble face hundreds of years ago,” he said. “I wonder if Miss Harding would tell us about the man she is thinking of.”
Nettie glanced at Violet Wayne, and fancied that she showed signs of interest. Besides Miss Harding was not averse to discoursing to an attentive audience.
“Well,” she said, “I’ll try. It was in Cuba, and he was an Englishman. A little while before the night I am going to speak about he and his American partner captured a Spanish gun.”
“Then I don’t see why you should have expected me to resemble him,” said Tony plaintively. “As everybody knows I should never have done such a thing! Will you tell us about the engagement?”