"By land and water," corrected Macfarren.
"Well, it matters not," she said, impatiently, "so it be seven days. My father is there, and will quickly send a trusty person after me. Now, tell me, friend, who are the persons of chief consideration in this town?"
Macfarren stopped to think a moment. He answered, not according to his own conviction, but merely by the general estimate: "The—the—Vanderbilts and the Astors, I presume."
"Who are they?" demanded Marian.
"Rich merchants," responded Macfarren.
"That will do then," said Marian, decisively. "This, then, is my plan. I will go to the house of the first thou didst name. No doubt they will be pleased to entertain a daughter of the house of Winstanley. I will crave their hospitality until my father doth send or come; and in leaving I will present them with this string of pearls, which will do doubt delight their honest hearts, unused to the gold and glitter of the great. Thou shalt take me; so get thy sword and mantle and come."
She was evidently determined; but at that moment a tremendous knocking came at the door. "Open! open!" he heard half a dozen voices shout, and "Murder!" He recognized the voices. There was the loud basso of the proprietor and the weak treble of the room-clerk, and there was Marsden, his particular chum, and Smithers, the greatest gossip of the hotel smoking-room, all bellowing in chorus, and the door must yield soon. A cold horror seized him. Marian, the woman he would have died to save—and then, strongly, strangely, the coward's longing to escape from it all possessed him like a devil; had he a pistol all would soon be over. In one moment was concentrated the agony of a lifetime. He thought he was going mad. He put his hands to his reeling head, and felt himself sinking by inches into black forgetfulness.
"I say, old fellow, you had a close call!" was what he next heard, in Marsden's voice. "Your clothes were smoking; the picture's burned to a crisp; and next time you fall asleep with a lighted cigar in your mouth just have the fire-brigade handy. This'll cost you in the neighborhood of five hundred dollars' damage to furniture and books alone."
"Thank God!" was all Macfarren answered.