"Finished your port, Arbuthnot?" said Fitz, calmly. "Time's about up. But I've told your chap about the car."
Consternation mingled now with the lively feminine bewilderment, but Mrs. Arbuthnot, whom Fitz's news had excited and distressed, issued no personal edict. If the life of Sonia was really at stake it was right to take a risk. Nevertheless it showed a right feeling about things to betray a little public perturbation at the prospect of being made a widow.
"Jodey and Reggie and Colonel Coverdale must go," said Mrs. Arbuthnot. "They haven't wives and families dependent upon them. But you, Odo, are different. And then, too, your wrist. You would be of no use if you went."
"I shall do to hold the horses at the foot of the Castle rock," said I, saluting a white cheek.
Fitz was already withdrawing from the room with his volunteers when Lord Frederick rose in his place at the board.
"Look here, Fitzwaren," he said. "If you have a vacancy in your irregulars I rather think I'll make one."
"By all means," said Fitz. "The more the merrier."
Bewilderment and consternation mounted ever higher around Mrs. Catesby's mahogany.
"Freddie! Freddie!" There arose a tearful wail from across the table.
"You ought to be bled for the simples, Frederick," said his hostess.