The American apparently had not quite given up his project.
“Well, think it over,” he begged. “No one would ever know. It would only be a case of borrowing the Talisman for a day or two, to get the replica made. Then you put the replica into the cabinet; I get the Talisman, and nobody’s any the wiser. Think it over again.”
Rollo Dangerfield seemed deep in thought. He made no reply, and they walked on once more. On the horizon a faint flicker of sheet-lightning illumined the sky, heralding the coming storm. As they turned back towards Friocksheim, the moon slipped behind the edge of the thunder-cloud.
Chapter IV
Douglas Fairmile, coming down to breakfast next morning, found Nina and Cynthia already at table.
“Good morning, Douglas,” Cynthia greeted him. “You don’t seem quite your usual bright self to-day. A trifle heavy-eyed and even duller-looking than usual. Did the thunder keep you awake?”
“Rather! My sensitive temperament, you know. High strung and all that. The least thing puts me off my sleep.”
Cynthia looked him over with mock sympathy.
“Ah! Neurasthenic, no doubt. It’s hard lines on these healthy looking people, Nina; their nerves are all fiddlestrings really, but they get no sympathy because they look so frightfully robust. Observe, however, the leaden eye, the trembling hand. He’ll be biting a bit out of his tea-cup if we don’t manage to soothe him.”
“I’d just love to have you for a nurse if I went sick,” Douglas affirmed. “And the toast, please, since you happen to be so handy to it. Thanks. I suppose the storm passed quite unnoticed at your end of the house?”