For I knew his sister could not yet have received my letter.
“We were afraid you'd got into the hands of the police again, and I've come prepared to bail you out. What the deuce happened to you?”
“You heard the circumstances of my departure?”
“We heard a cock-and-bull story from a thickheaded yokel—something about a pistol and a villain with a mustache and a carriage and pair; but as we learned that you'd appeared at the station safe and sound, we divided the yarn by five. I must say, though, I've been getting a little worried at hearing no news of you—that's to say, the women folk got in a flutter.”
“Did they?” I cried, with a pleasant excitement I could not quite conceal.
“Naturally, we are not accustomed to have our guests vanish like an Indian juggler. I've come to see what's up.”
I told him then the whole story, letting the Marquis's prohibition go to the winds. He listened in amused astonishment.
“Well,” he said, at last, “it seems I've just come in time for the fair. You've napkins enough to feed another conspirator, I suppose?”
“You are the one man I want!”
“That's all right, then,” said Dick. “I'd better be off to my rooms to dress. Where shall we meet?”