A servant appeared.
“Is Captain Dudleigh here yet?” asked Sir Lionel.
“Yes, Sir Lionel.”
“Tell him that I want to see him.”
The servant departed, and in a short time the door opened and a young man entered. He was tall, muscular, well-formed, and with sufficient resemblance to Sir Lionel to indicate that he was his son. For some time Sir Lionel took no notice of him, and Captain Dudleigh, throwing himself in a lounging attitude upon a chair, leaned his head back, and stared at the ceiling. At length he grew tired of this, and sitting erect, he looked at Sir Lionel, who was leaning forward, with his elbow on the arm of his chair, supporting his head in his hand, and evidently quite oblivious of the presence of any one.
“Did you wish to see me, Sir?” said Captain Dudleigh at length.
Sir Lionel started and raised his head.
“By Jove!” he exclaimed. “Is that you, Leon? I believe I must have been asleep. Have you been waiting long? Why didn't you wake me? I sent for you, didn't I? Oh yes. Let me see. It is a business of the greatest importance, and I'm deuced glad that you are here, for any delay would be bad for all concerned.”
Sir Lionel paused for a few moments, and then began:
“You know about that—that melancholy story of—of poor Dalton.”