I could see that the cornet was burning with curiosity to hear my story; but it was not until we had fully supped that the marquis rose to his feet.
“If I have your permission, gentlemen,” he said, bowing, “I think that I will retire.”
“So soon, monsieur?” the cornet cried. “The night is young yet. Will you not take your revenge for your losses of yesterday?”
“I beg that you will hold me excused,” he answered, with a deprecating gesture. “I am feeling somewhat fatigued, and there is a long journey ahead. I should prefer, therefore, to seek my couch, if my good friend the host will conduct me hither!” And with a courteous bow he left the room.
When the door had closed upon him I drew my chair again to the table and gave the cornet an account of what had passed in my interview with Sir Richard Danvers. He listened throughout in silence.
Only when I had finished: “What a woman!” he said admiringly.
I knew of whom he spoke.
Suddenly he reached out his hand and raised his glass. “I will give you a toast, captain,” he cried. “To the health of Lady Ingram!”
“Aye,” I answered grimly; following his example, “to the next meeting between us!”
Our arrival in London excited little curiosity, so common at this time was the sight of a suspected Jacobite being taken to Newgate or the Tower. In the city itself we found the wildest rumours afloat. William had been totally defeated in Ireland! Tourville with the French fleet had entered the Thames! Whilst at the first sound of his guns the Papists were to rise and commence a general massacre!