"I hope to heaven I never have the chance—oh, curse and confound it—don't be so devilish calm and assured. You—you talk as if you were going out to your execution!"
"No, no, Anthony," I answered, slipping my hand within his arm, "let us rather say—to my triumph."
CHAPTER X
TELLS HOW A MYSTERY WAS RESOLVED
I opened my eyes on a bleak dawn full of a pallid, stealthy mist, to find myself cramped in my chair before the open lattice and with Anthony bending over me, his comely features haggard in the sickly light.
"Ha, you didn't go to bed then?"
"Evidently not!" I answered, shivering. "But I slept—"
"Well, I did—and never a wink, confound it! And here's you basking before an open window—and on such a perfectly damned morning—have you ill again!" and, shivering in his turn, he proceeded to close the lattice and light the candles.
"Pray what o'clock is it, Anthony?"
"A quarter to four. I have ordered a chaise to be ready in half an hour; seems this 'Anchor' Inn is some eight miles away—and better be a little early than late."