Could it be from the inquiries of Hankey he had learned all this, and took so much interest in my gallant neighbor? I remembered now how the General had once met that disreputable individual. Yet it did not seem to me altogether a complete explanation.
But conceive of my astonishment when, among the few refusals, I found one from Fisher!
“What do you know of him?” I asked.
“He is a philanthropist. I regret that he cannot accept,” said the Marquis, with an air of calm mystery yet with another suggestion of flush in his face. He knew of my philanthropic escapade, then—and how?
“Well,” I said, at last, “I am prepared to assist you in any way I can. In the two days left I shall arrange my affairs—and now I must send some explanation of my disappearance to Lady Shafthead.”
He rose and grasped my arm.
“Not a word to her,” he said. “I do not trust the member of Parliament. We must run no risk.”
I protested, but no; he implored me—commanded me.
“A line to my friend Dick Shafthead, then?” I suggested. “He, at least, is beyond suspicion.”
“My friend, we are serving the King,” he replied.