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Brinsmade took one long look at Stephen, turned on his heel, and walked off rapidly through the grove. And it may be added that for some years after he was not seen in St. Louis. For a moment the other two stood staring after him. Then Mr. Sherman took his boy by the hand. "Mr. Brice," he said, "I've seen a few things done in my life, but nothing better than this.
Brice possessed that wonderful power of expressing distance in other terms besides ells and furlongs, and yet he was simple enough with it all. Many a furtive stare he drew from the table that evening. There were one or two of discernment present, and they noted that his were the generous features of a marked man, if he chose to become marked.
'Twas then I caught sight of the duke, a surly stamp on his leaden features. And after him danced Mr. Manners. Dolly gave a little cry when she saw me. "Oh! Richard, I am so glad you are here. I was wondering what had become of you. And Comyn, too." Whispering to me, "Mamma has had a letter from Mrs. Brice; your grandfather has been to walk in the garden." "And Grafton?"
He decided to leave for St. Louis on the morning train, and was even pushing toward the tavern entrance with his bag in his hand, when he was met by Mr. Hill. "I had about given you up, Mr. Brice," he said. "Mr. Lincoln asked me to get hold of you, and bring you to him alive or dead."
Brice was one of the orators at a much larger meeting in a garden in South St. Louis. The audience was mostly German. And this was even a happier event, inasmuch as Mr. Brice was able to trace with some skill the history of the Fatherland from the Napoleonic wars to its Revolution. Incidentally he told them why they had emigrated to this great and free country.
"Wait a moment," said the voice. There was a hum of conversation from the other end, and then another man came to the telephone. "Can you find out where Miss Brice has gone?" "I'll see." I went to Ladley's door and knocked. Mr. Ladley answered from just beyond. "The theater is asking where Mrs. Ladley is." "Tell them I don't know," he snarled, and shut the door.
The king rose up in his bed, glared fixedly at the prelate, and then shrieked aloud: "St. Brice! St. Brice! art thou come again? What dost thou glare at me for? 'Twas not I who defiled thy festival with blood. It was Edric, Edric! Why does he not come to answer for his own sin?" "If he did, I would brain him," muttered Edmund. "There! do not glare upon me.
"I couldn't bear it. He Mr. Brice is not coming, I am sure." Virginia disengaged herself. "He is not coming?" "No," said Anne. "You asked me if he was invited. And I was going on to tell you that he could not come." She stopped, and stared at Virginia in bewilderment. That young lady, instead of beaming, had turned her back.
The smell of perspiration was stifling as Stephen pushed up to the master of the situation. "What's that? Supper, young man? Ain't you had no supper? Gosh, I reckon if you can fight your way to the dinin' room, the gals'll give you some pork and a cup of coffee." After a preliminary scuffle with a drunken countryman in mud-caked boots, Mr. Brice presently reached the long table in the dining-room.
It caught the lunging giant at precisely the right non-balance angle, as he was turning about. And, for the second time, the beach-comber sat down on the trampled sand, with unexpected suddenness and force. Gavin Brice laughed aloud, with boyish mischief, and stood back, waiting for the cursing madman to scramble to his feet again.
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