“And Sir Philip and I have shed tears at the necessity of saying good-by to you,” gushed his lordship.
“But what is the matter with Sir Philip?” asked Raymond, wondering that he was so distant and unsocial, when they had been on excellent terms on board of the steamer.
“You must excuse Sir Philip, for he is in terrible agony with a toothache which has just seized him. He is in such pain, that he can’t open his mouth,” replied Lord Fillgrove.
With one hand on his jaw, Gregory extended the other to Raymond, who warmly pressed it.
“I am sorry you are in such pain, Sir Philip; but I know what the toothache is, and I will not detain you a moment,” added Raymond, shaking the hand he held again.
Gregory hastened away, holding on to his jaw, and groaning audibly to heighten the deception; and, though Raymond had the credit of being a sharp officer, he did not suspect any thing wrong about the passengers. His lordship called a porter (or, rather, he selected one from a dozen who had called themselves), and directed the luggage to be carried to the principal hotel. In a few moments he overtook his companion, who had turned down the collar of his mackintosh, for he had suddenly recovered from his toothache, and seemed to be in good spirits for one who had been such a recent sufferer.
“That was cleverly done,” chuckled his lordship, as they followed the porter to the hotel.
“Nothing could have been better done; no Yankee could have managed it more neatly,” replied Gregory.
“No, I should say not! If that was a Yankee trick, we Britishers can play a good game at it,” said Lord Fillgrove, laughing.
A short walk brought them to the hotel, and they were assigned a room. As soon as the baggage had been brought in, they locked the door.