Rufus smiled, shook his head, and hesitated.
“I don’t know,” he said doubtfully. “I believe he does own a small estate somewhere, but it never brought him in a penny. It is barren, unproductive, and out of the world.”
“The very place to which he would have gone!” cried Atkins. “Where is it?”
“I don’t know,” confessed Rufus. “You see my father never talked of his affairs to me. In fact, I never lived with him. I was always at school, and we were more like strangers, or master and serf, than like father and son. His property may be in Wales, and it may be elsewhere. I believe there are mountains near it or around it, but I am not sure. Indeed, my lord, almost any one who ever knew my father can tell you more about his affairs than I can.”
Rufus spoke with a plain sincerity that convinced his hearers of his truthfulness.
“We have had our journey to Scotland for nothing,” said Atkins.
Ryan looked crestfallen.
“We will detain you no longer, Rufus,” said Lord Towyn, a shadow darkening his fair and noble face. “Make our excuses to your bride for taking you from her so soon after your marriage, and accept our best wishes for your future prosperity and happiness. And now good-morning.”
With an exchange of courtesies and friendly greetings the party broke up, Rufus Black returning to his young wife and her wondering friends, to make all necessary apologies for his absence from them, and Lord Towyn and his companions making their way into the street.
“What are we to do now?” demanded the young earl, as they paused at the open door of the cab.