“It was drizzling!”
“Well, yes it was—earlier. But I was sure it would clear up. As it did, for that very aggressive lady had need of her parasol, did you not notice?”
“Gad, but I did,” sighed Morris.
“I longed to go out for a drive,” explained Gwendolyn, “and since we are so short of servants just now, Mr. Tummet said he would be happy to serve as footman—”
“A fine footman! The slippery fellow abandoned you—or did you send him off?”
“I suppose it must have been a misunderstanding. I had thought he was to wait, but—Oh, how fortuitous! Here he comes now!”
The approaching carriage slowed and stopped. Tummet called, “Whatcher, Cap’n!”
Rossiter handed his reins to Morris and stalked to the window from which his valet’s bewigged head protruded. “Where the devil have you been? And howdareyou abandon Miss Rossiter?”
“Cor!” said Tummet, wounded. “As if I’d do such a ’orrid thing! Snug as a bug, yer sister was. Wiv the friends of ’er bosom!” He leaned farther from the window, and said in a hissing croak, “Lend us yer ear ’oles.”
“I’m more like to lend you my boot,” declared Gideon wrathfully. “What rascality have you been about now?”
“Comes a time, Guv, when a man’s faced with one o’ them there not-so-nice’s.” Tummet nodded lugubriously.
“I—am—in—no—mood—” began Gideon through his teeth.
Tummet had already noted the glint in his employer’s eyes, however, and he translated hurriedly, “That is ter say—crisis, Cap’n. Andthat’swhat E. Tummet faced. Not fer ’imself, mindya. But fer the gent what took ’im on. Loyalty. That’s me motter. So seein’s ’ow a decision was gotta be made, I made it.”
“Did you. Well, I am making one of my own. In fact—”
“I don’t go about wiv me weepers shut, mate,” interrupted the indomitable valet. “You remember when I was knocked abaht by them ugly coves and lost me sovereign nation? Well, I seen one of ’em. The back of ’im, that is.”
Interested now, Gideon exclaimed, “Did you, by God! So you followed? Good man! You never lost him?”
“In a manner of speakin’ I did. When ’e went inside. By the side door, a’course. Didn’t see ’is face, mind, but I knew ’im by ’is perishing strut.”
“Where did he go?”
“To a very tidy mansion. Very nice indeed. Luxoorus y’might say. On Soho Square.” Tummet grinned as he saw Rossiter’s eyes narrow, and nodding his head, he whispered, “That’s right, mate. The ’ome of yer papa’s dear old friend, what’s s’posed to be orf in foreign parts. Sir Derrydene!”
“By… God!”
Within minutes Tummet was seated on the box, Gwendolyn had been installed in the carriage, and the coachman was guiding his team back towards Snow Hill.
Watching all this with mournful abstraction, Morris mounted up, and accompanying Rossiter along the street, said miserably, “Well, I properly made mice feet of the business, once again.”
“Oh, I’d not say that, exactly,” murmured Rossiter, a half-smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Morris sighed. “Good of you. But it’s no use trying to ease the blow. She must take me for the king of clods. Even Lady Naomi looked at me as if I was wits to let. Which reminds me—what the deuce were you doing with her?”
“What d’you mean—what was I doing with her? I was gallantly risking my own life so as to save her from being trampled to death by your insane animal.”
“Walker!” said Morris jeeringly. “Windsong’s hooves came nowhere near her!”
“Perhaps, from where you were standing it appeared in that light. But where I stood, it was—” laughter danced in his grey eyes—“quite different.”
“I’ll warrant it was, you rogue! Some fellows have all the luck! What of your note? Anything to the purpose?”
“Begad, if I hadn’t forgot it!” Rossiter fumbled in his coat pocket, found the note, and reined in so sharply that a following horseman almost caromed into him.
“What is it?” demanded Morris, ignoring the spleen of the annoyed rider. “You look like the sheep that ate the wolf!”
