“With greatest pleasure,” replied the lady. “But I can't promise you an adventure—”
Then feeling that the remark might awaken painful recollections, she stopped short.
During the latter part of this discourse, Norris had entered the room, and, approaching Chetwynd, told him, in a whisper, that two persons wanted to see him on important business.
“Who are they?” inquired Chetwynd, thinking there was something strange in the butler's manner.
“They didn't give their names, sir,” replied Norris; “and I've never seen them before. I've shown them into the library.”
“Quite right. I'll come to them after breakfast.”
“Better see them at once, I think, sir,” observed Norris, significantly.
On this Chetwynd got up, without disturbing the party, and following the butler out of the room, repaired to the library, where he found the two personages.
Looks, dress, and deportment proclaimed their vocation. Coarse, stout, red-faced, vulgar-looking dogs, they seemed up to their business. Each was provided with a stout stick.
Having seen such fellows before, Chetwynd instantly understood what they were. But they would not have left him long in doubt.