"Her wedding-tower, sir," repeated the servant, in a faint voice.
"Her wedding-tour!" cried Jack. "Her wedding-tour! Do you mean what you say? Is this a joke? What do you mean?"
At this, which was spoken most vehemently by Jack, who was now in a state of frightful excitement, the servant turned pale and started back in fear—so I interposed.
"Don't be at all alarmed," I said, kindly. "We merely want to know, you know, what you mean by saying it was a wedding-tour. What wedding? We want to know, you know."
"Wedding, sir? Lor', sir! Yes, sir. This morning, sir. She was married, you know, sir."
"MARRIED!" cried Jack, in a strange, wild voice.
"This morning!" I exclaimed.
"Lor', sir! Yes, sir," continued the maid, who was still a little frightened at the presence of such excited visitors. "This morning, sir. Early, sir. Six o'clock, sir. And they took the seven o'clock train, sir—for Montreal, you know, sir—and they talked of New York, sir."
"They talked? They? Who? Married! Who married her? The widow! Mrs. Finnimore! Married! Nonsense! And gone! What do you mean? Who was it?"
The maid started back in fresh fear at Jack's terrible agitation. Terrible? I should rather think so. Imagine a criminal with the noose about his neck hearing a whisper going about that a pardon had arrived. Agitation? I should say that there was occasion for it Still, I didn't like to see that pretty servant-maid frightened out of her wits. So I interposed once more.