* * * * *
III
It was afternoon when Darragh awoke in his bunk, stiff, sore, confused in mind and battered in body.
However, when he recollected where he was he got out of bed in a hurry and jerked aside the window curtains.
The day was magnificent; a sky of royal azure overhead, and everywhere the silver pillars of the birches supporting their splendid canopy of ochre, orange, and burnt-gold.
Wier, hearing him astir, came in.
"How long have you been back! Did you meet the ladies with your flivver?" demanded Darragh, impatiently.
"I got to Five Lakes station just as the train came in. The young ladies were the only passengers who got out. I waited to get their two steamer trunks and then I drove them to Harrod Place——"
"How did they seem, Ralph — worn-out — worried — ill?"
Wier laughed: "No, sir, they looked very pretty and lively to me. They seemed delighted to get here. They talked to each other in some foreign tongue — Russian, I should say — at least, it sounded like what we heard over in Siberia, Captain—-"