As he passed through the hall he looked out. The mist of the night before had sought out every twig and leaflet, and had silvered it to meet the sun. The rime on the grass looked cool and tempting. Charles's head ached, and he went out for a moment and stood in the crisp still air. The rooks were cawing high up. The face of the earth had not altered during the night. It shimmered and was glad, and smiled at his grave, care-worn face.
"Hallo!" called a voice; and Ralph's head, with his hair sticking straight out on every side, was thrust out of a window. "I say, Charles, early bird you are!"
"Yes," said Charles, looking up and leisurely going in-doors again; "you are the first worm I have seen."
He found Dare, as he expected, in the drawing-room, and proceeded at once to the business he had in hand.
"I am glad you are down early," he said. "You are the very man I want."
"Ah!" replied Dare, shaking his head, "when the heart is troubled there is no sleep, none. All the clocks are heard."
"Possibly. I should not wonder if you heard another in the course of half an hour, which will mean breakfast. In the mean time——"
"I want no breakfast. A sole cup of——"
"In the mean time," continued Charles, "I have some news for you." And, disregarding another interruption, he related as shortly as he could the story of Stephens's recognition of him in the door-way, and the subsequent revelations in the prison concerning Dare's marriage.
"Where is this man, this Stephens?" said Dare, jumping up. "I will go to him. I will hear from his own mouth. Where is he?"