Scarcely had he said this when the rattle of wheels was heard outside. A vehicle of some sort had drawn up in front of the cottage. A minute afterwards the parlour door opened giving entrance to Viscount Walden.
His acknowledgment of the surgeon was limited to, "Ah! Godfrey:" of Idris he took no notice at all. Walking up to Lorelie he smiled in a manner which showed that they were no strangers to each other, and Godfrey, recalling the viscount's utterances in the crypt of Ravenhall, "I hope Lorelie will be satisfied," looked on at their meeting with considerable interest, wondering whether there really were some guilty secret between them.
"Mademoiselle Rivière, I am delighted to meet you in England," said Ivar. "Passing along the road outside and observing the crowd in front of this cottage I stopped my carriage to ascertain the cause. Imagine my surprise on learning that you were within. Welcome to Ormsby! You find our climate a little trying, I expect, after the sunny air and the blue skies of the Riviera? You have sprained your ankle, I understand, and find a difficulty in walking. If you desire a carriage to convey you home, mine is at your service."
Ivar's proposal to carry off Lorelie in his own carriage roused all Idris' jealousy, of which he had the ordinary mortal's share. It was not very agreeable to hear Lorelie assenting, and to observe that she smiled upon Ivar as pleasantly as she had smiled upon himself.
With a motion of her hand she directed the viscount's attention to Idris.
"Lord Walden, Mr.——"
"Breakspear," interposed Idris quickly, fearing lest she should inadvertently pronounce the name of Marville.
Lorelie gave him a sympathetic glance, which assured him that his secret was quite safe in her keeping.
"Lord Walden," she continued, "Mr. Breakspear, a gentleman to whom I owe my life."
In some surprise Ivar turned to survey the saviour of Mademoiselle Rivière, and beheld a man of about thirty years, with fine dark eyes and an athletic figure—a man evidently of good birth; his countenance expressive of a spirit that showed if he should set his mind upon accomplishing an object, say of winning a woman's love, he would succeed, or make it go extremely ill with those who endeavoured to thwart him: and, noting all this, Ivar, who was of a mean nature, took secret umbrage.