The usually peaceful slumbers of Mr. Johnston were very much disturbed that night by this extraordinary conduct on the part of his master. He lost at least three hours' sleep perplexing himself about it, for never since he had had the honor of being the captain's man, had that gentleman behaved so singularly, or exhibited so ghastly and deathlike a face. When, in the early watches of the morning, he presented himself at his master's door with towels and water, it was in a state of mingled curiosity and terror; but he found there was no call for the latter emotion. Beyond looking uncommonly pale and hollow-eyed (sure tokens of a sleepless night), Captain Cavendish was perfectly himself again; and whether this was owing to the brandy he had drank or the exhilarating effect of the morning sunshine, Mr. Johnston could not tell, but he was inclined to set it down to the brandy. Even the paleness and hollow-eyedness was not noticeable after he had shaved and dressed, and partaken of his breakfast, and sauntered out, swinging his cane and smoking his cigar, to kill thought in the bustling streets of the town. Val Blake, standing in his office-door, hailed him as he passed.
"How are you, Cavendish? Heavenly morning, isn't it? Have you any particular engagement for this afternoon?"
"This afternoon? What hour?"
"Oh, about three. You must postpone your engagements to accommodate me."
"I have none so early. I dine with the mess at six. What is it?"
"A little surprise that I have in store for you. Drop into Darcy's office about five, and we'll give you a little surprise!"
"A little surprise! Of what nature, pray?"
"Honor bright!" said Val, turning to run up-stairs. "I won't tell. Will you come?"
"Oh, certainly! It will kill time as well as anything else."
He sauntered on unsuspiciously, never dreaming he was sealing his own fate, Val Blake had no compunctions about entrapping him. He was so artful a villain he must be taken by surprise, or he might baffle them yet.