But the vicar was firm.
“Then I may as well go with you,” said M. de la Bourbonais; “it’s late already for me to be out.”
Sir Simon was beginning to protest, when his attention was called away by Lord Roxham.
“Have you that diamond ring, Harness?”
“What ring? Plover’s? No; I passed it to you to look at, and it didn’t come round to me again. Can it not be found?”
“Oh! it’s sure to turn up in a minute!” said Mr. Plover. “It has slipped under the edge of a plate, very likely!” And he went to the table and began to look for it.
“Come, let us be going, as we are going,” said M. de la Bourbonais to the vicar, and he went towards the door.
“Wait a bit,” replied Mr. Langrove—“wait a moment, Bourbonais; we must see the end of this.”
“What have we to see in it? It is no concern of ours,” was the slightly impatient rejoinder. Raymond was in that state of unnatural excitement when the least trifle that crosses us chafes and irritates. He had nothing for it, however, but to comply with the vicar’s fancy and wait.
“Most extraordinary!” Sir Simon exclaimed, as crystal dishes and porcelain plates were lifted and moved, and silver filigree baskets overturned and their delicate fruits sent rolling in every direction. “It must have dropped; stand aside, everybody, while I look under the table.” Every one drew off. Sir Simon flung up the ends of the snowy cloth, and, taking a chandelier with several lights, set it on the floor and began carefully to examine the carpet; but the ring was nowhere to be seen.