At two o'clock Mrs. Peters' weariness conquered her curiosity, and she went home, offering unbounded sympathy and a bed for the night. The sympathy was accepted, the bed declined, Mrs. Hedderwick declaring she would remain at the inn, if necessary sitting up in a chair till morning.
Glew had no wish for this, and cast about him for means of getting rid of the undesired guest. At six o'clock he sent his hopeful son up-stairs, himself keeping guard over the parlor from the bar opposite. Young Glew found Robert desperate: he had not thought his wife capable of such obstinacy.
"Dad says," began the interested youngster, "that he'll go in and talk to the lady—keep her occupied like—if you'd care to risk it and slip out."
"I will!" said Robert on the instant. Anything was better than this terrible suspense. "Let me see ... there's a train in half an hour or so ... I'll go to the station. No! I won't! Wait a minute!"
He changed his resolve, partly from quixotic, partly from selfish reasons. He did not like to leave Tony to an unknown, unguessed-at fate; and he also felt very strongly that he would like that judicious schemer's advice on his next steps. He resolved to risk all and boldly apply for admittance to The Quiet House. If matters there were really serious ... well, at all events they could not be much more serious to him than the present impasse. "I'll do it!" he declared with a sudden resolution. "Boy! when you get your father alone, tell him I've gone up to The Quiet House. I'll write to him from there. Now go down and ask him to talk to my—to the lady. Beg him to stand in the doorway and fill it up. I'll creep quietly past in ten minutes' time."
The boy obeyed, and after ten palpitating minutes Robert stole cautiously down-stairs. True to his promise, the landlord's bulky figure blocked the parlor door, his voice raised in mournful reiteration and appeal. Robert reached the fifth step from the bottom without making the slightest noise. But the stair-rod of the fifth step had worked loose: the carpet slipped, and he tumbled down with considerable uproar. Luckily he was unhurt by the fall; but the landlord's sharp turn of the head and expression of dismayed surprise, coupled with the din, roused Mrs. Hedderwick's suspicion. "What is that?" she demanded querulously, trying to push past the landlord. At the terrific tones Robert jumped up and took to his heels.
His wife had common sense and did not attempt to follow, knowing she could not hope to catch the fugitive. She knew, too, that Glew was incorruptible. But as the landlord walked out to block the passage and observe the escape with a sympathetic eye, she turned to Master Glew and said decisively, "Here is half-a-crown if you can tell me where he has gone."
"Quiet House," said the guileless lad without hesitation, and pocketed the coin. Mrs. Hedderwick left the inn at once.
After inquiry from a passer-by she reached her destination, a quarter of an hour behind the peccant Hedderwick. She walked up the drive, and beheld the unsuspecting Robert pouring out his grief to Tony. They were sitting in the hammock-chairs.
Robert gave a cry and fled once more. Tony courteously waited and implored Mrs. Hedderwick to sit down and rest. "There is a misunderstanding," he said urbanely; "it shall be my pleasure to set it right." Filled with shame of his sex, determined to vindicate Robert's manhood and obtain for him a peaceful mastership, he ran after him, catching him outside the grounds as has already been described.