"You see, there was no cause for alarm," said Hugh, with an innocent smile.
Drayton's laughter became boisterous.
"I am to decoy the young thing away by making her believe as I'm her husband, eh?"
"Mr. Drayton, you are a shrewd fellow."
"And what about the husband—ain't he another shrewd fellow?"
"Leave him to me. When the time comes, make no delay. Don't expose yourself unnecessarily. Wear that ulster you have on at present. Say as little as possible—nothing if practicable. Get the lady into the fly that shall be waiting at the door; drive to the station; book her to Keswick; put her into the carriage at the last moment; then clear away with all expedition. The midnight train never stops this side of Bedford."
Drayton was shuffling across the room, chuckling audibly. "He, he, he! haw! haw!—so I'm to leave her at the station, eh? Poor young thing; I hain't got the heart—I hain't got it in me to be so cruel. No, no, I couldn't be such a vagabond of a husband—he, he! haw, haw!—and on the poor thing's wedding day, too."
Hugh Ritson rose to his feet.
"If you go an inch further than the station, you'll repent it to your dying day!" he said, once more bringing down his fist heavily on the table.
At this Drayton chuckled and crowed yet louder, and declared that it would be necessary to have another half glass in order to take the taste of the observation out of his mouth.