Miss Arthur's maid had surmised aright. It was no part of Cora's plan to permit the inmates of Oakley a view of Mr. Davlin on this occasion. So the ponies were driven briskly away from the town, and when that was left behind, permitted to walk through the almost leafless woods, while Cora revealed to Lucian the extent of the fresh calamity that had befallen them in the advent of Mr. Percy.
"Well, what have you to say to all this?" demanded the lady, pettishly, after she had disburdened herself of the story, with its most minute particulars. "This is a pretty state of affairs, is it not? I am worn out. I wish Oakley and the whole tribe were at the bottom of the sea!"
"Stuff!" with much coolness; then taking a flask containing some amber liquid from a breast pocket he held it between his eyes and the light for critical examination.
"Stuff? where? In that flask?"
"No, in your words. This," shaking the amber liquid, "is simon pure; best French. Have some? I felt as if I needed a 'bracer' this morning."
"Up all night, I presume," eyeing him askant.
"Pretty much;" indifferently. "Won't take any? Then, here's confusion to Percy," and he took a long draught. "Now, then," pocketing the brandy and turning toward her, briskly, "I'm ready for business. How the deuce did we let this fellow pounce down upon us like this? I thought he was safe in Cuba?"
"He will never be safe anywhere, until he gets to—"
"Heaven," suggested he.
"I suppose it was stupid," she went on, gloomily. "But when Ellen Arthur raved of her dear friend Mr. Percy, how was I to imagine that among all the Percys on earth, this especial and particular one should be the Percy. I wrote you that she had a lover of that name; did it occur to you that it might be he?" maliciously.