“If you please, sir, Mr. Ralph is come in. He bade me tell you that all is arranged.”
The old man looked at him, swallowed once in his throat; and at last spoke.
“It is arranged, you say? It will not take place?”
“It will not take place, sir.”
“Where is Mr. Ralph?”
“He is gone to his room, sir. He bade me tell you he would be leaving early for London.”
CHAPTER VI
A CATASTROPHE
Ralph rode away early next morning, yet not so early as to escape an interview with his father. They met in the hall, Sir James in his loose morning gown and Ralph booted and spurred with his short cloak and tight cap. The old man took him by the sleeve, drawing him to the fire that burned day and night in winter.
“Ralph—Ralph, my son,” he said, “I must thank you for last night.”
“You have to thank yourself only, sir, and my mother. I could do no otherwise.”