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If, indeed, he sometimes suspected that his guest was a little more anxious to lose than to win, he was also quite resolved not to perceive it, but calmly persisted in, night after night, giving Sir Wynston, as he termed it, his revenge; or, in other words, treating him to a repetition of his losses.
"One of our number is missing," said Sir Wynston, affecting a slight surprise, which, perhaps, he did not feel. "Mademoiselle de Barras I trust she is well?" said Doctor Danvers, looking towards Marston. "I suppose she is; I don't know," said Marston, drily. "Why! how should he know," said the baronet, gaily, but with something almost imperceptibly sarcastic in his tone.
In these things, then, thou hast no concern; the judgment troubles thee not; thou hast no fear of death, Sir Wynston Berkley; yet there is a heart beating near thee, the mysteries of which, could they glide out and stand before thy face, would perchance appal thee, cold, easy man of the world.
"I am sorry, Wynston, I have no sport of any kind to offer you here," said Marston, "except, indeed, some good trout-fishing, if you like it. I have three miles of excellent fishing at your command." "My dear fellow, I am a mere cockney," rejoined Sir Wynston; "I am not a sportsman; I never tried it, and should not like to begin now.
"I never met one more so," said the man, promptly, and raising his head. "What I wish to know is, whether your desire to go is connected with Sir Wynston and his servant?" said Mrs. Marston. The man hesitated, and shifted his position uneasily. "You need not answer, Merton, if you don't wish it," she said kindly.
"Tomorrow will do as well; so, perhaps, Sir Wynston, I may not trouble you tonight." "Just as suits you best, my dear Marston," replied the baronet, with a tranquil smile; "only don't come after the hour I have stipulated." So saying, the baronet mounted the stairs, and made his way to his chamber.
The next witness sworn was Edward Smith, the servant of the late Sir Wynston Berkley. His evidence was a narrative of the occurrences we have already stated. He described the sounds which he had overheard from his master's room, the subsequent appearance of Merton, and the conversation which had passed between them.
Marston's companion," said Marston, drily. "Ha!" said Sir Wynston; "I thought you were but three at home just now, and I was right. Your son is at Cambridge; I heard so from our old friend, Jack Manbury. Jack has his boy there too. Egad, Dick, it seems but last week that you and I were there together."
He was rather tall, and elegantly made, with gay, easy manners, and something indefinably aristocratic in his face, which, however, was a little more worn than his years would have strictly accounted for. But Sir Wynston had been a roué, and, spite of the cleverest possible making up, the ravages of excess were very traceable in the lively beau of fifty.
Then came the arrival of Sir Wynston his murder her elopement with Marston, and her guilty and joyless triumph. At last, however, came the blow, long suspended and terrific, which shattered all her hopes and schemes, and drove her once again upon the world. The catastrophe we have just described. After it she made her way to Paris.
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