He started and flushed under her gaze. "I—I really don't know."
"Then, as my brother, I command you to know all about Claire. She is my special charge to you. And you are to tell her, from me, that I won't have her go away."
"Then I must do all in my power to detain her? Your command will have more effect than all of my prayers," he said, softly.
"Well, keep on reiterating my commands and your prayers, then; by and by she won't be able to distinguish the one from the other. What time is it?"
He smiled at the sudden change of tone and subject. "Half-past nine," he said.
While the words were on his lips, Old Hagar entered.
Clearly it was time to end the interview. Doctor Vaughan must be ready for the return train, which flew cityward soon, and Céline Leroque must not be too long absent. So there were a few words more about their plans, a few courteous sentences addressed to Hagar by Doctor Vaughan, and then they separated.
The next day two men were at work,—following like sleuth hounds the trail on which they were put, unravelling slowly, slowly, the webs of the past that had been spun by the two men who were to be hunted down.
And now came a time of comparative dullness at Oakley. Even eventful lives do not always pace onward to the inspiring clang of trumpet and drum. There is the bivouac and the time of rest, even though sleeping upon their arms, for all the hosts that were ever marshalled to battle.