"No," said Dane. "I must have walked tolerably fast, and I am perhaps a trifle shaky yet. With Mrs. Chatterton's permission I will go out and smoke a cigar."
He passed out, and the iron-master smiled as he looked at his wife.
"Can you tell me what is the meaning of this?" he asked.
"Your inquiry is indefinite; and why do you ask me?"
"Because I think you ought to know," Chatterton answered dryly. "Women generally have a finger in it whenever there is trouble."
"Even if true, that is not strikingly original," Mrs. Chatterton retorted. "I have not noticed anything unusual."
"Then listen," and Chatterton pointed toward the window. "When a young man goes out for a stroll he does not usually stamp in that savage fashion upon the gravel. Now, I want your candid opinion."
"You shall have it," said the lady, smiling. "I believe that no good ever resulted from a choleric elderly gentleman's interference in affairs beyond his comprehension."
Meanwhile Carsluith Maxwell stood talking to his sister in the hall of Culmeny.
"After what has happened, the sooner I get out on my African venture the more pleasant it will be for all concerned," he said gloomily. "It is a good country where one can forget one's troubles; in fact, there are so many peculiarly its own that I don't know a better."