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Updated: June 16, 2025
And, "Hum!" said Mr. Brentwick considerately, entering the study. He had discarded the dressing-gown and was now in evening dress. The girl rose. Kirkwood turned. "Mr. Brentwick " he began. But Brentwick begged his patience with an eloquent gesture. "Sir," he said, somewhat austerely, "permit me to put a single question: Have you by any chance paid your cabby?"
Abruptly Brentwick, who was no longer Brentwick, but the actual Calendar, released the girl from his embrace and hopped nimbly toward the door. "Really, I must see about that petrol!" he cried. "While it's perfectly true that Charles lied about it's running out, we must be getting on. I'll call you when we're ready to start." And the door crashed to behind him.... Between them was the table.
"So! so!" pursued Brentwick, rising on his toes and dropping back again; "so this world of ours wags on to the old, old tune!... And I, who in my younger days pursued adventure without success, in dotage find myself dragged into a romance by my two ears, whether I will or no! Eh? And now you are going to tell me all about it, Philip. There is a chair.... Well, Wotton?"
"No petrol to be had here, sir," he announced reluctantly; "but the landlord will send to the next inn, a mile up the road, for some. You will have to be patient, I'm afraid, sir." "Very well. Get some one to help you push the car in from the road," ordered Brentwick; "we will be waiting in one of the private parlors." "Yes, sir; thank you, sir."
It seems," turning to Brentwick, "they were opening negotiations for the sale of a lot of stones, and seemed in such a precious hurry that the diamond merchant's suspicions were roused. We're sending over for them, Miss Calendar, so you can make your mind easy about your jewels; you'll have them back in a few days." "Thank you," said the girl with an effort.
In a corner of the room a tall grandfather's clock ticked off ten interminable minutes. For some reason unconscionably delaying, the landlady did not reappear. Brentwick, abruptly turning from the window, remarked the fact querulously, then drew a chair up to a marble-topped table in the middle of the floor. "My dear," he requested the girl, "will you oblige me by sitting over here?
The fat adventurer faltered just within the gateway; then, with a truculent swagger, "I want my daughter," he declared vociferously. Brentwick peered mildly over his glasses, first at Calendar, then at Kirkwood. His glance lingered a moment on the young man's honest eyes, and swung back to Calendar.
"But hang it all, Brentwick!" expostulated Kirkwood, ashamed and contrite, but worked upon by desperate apprehension; "I didn't mean that, but " "Would you have bullets flying when she is near?" demanded Brentwick scathingly. Hastily he slipped the revolver upon a little shelf beneath the table-top.
Well, I like a man of spirit. But permit me to advise you " "Gladly," nodded Brentwick. "Eh?... Don't come a second time between father and daughter; another man might not be as patient as I, Mister Brentwick. There's a law in the land, if you don't happen to know it." "I congratulate you on your success in evading it," observed Brentwick, undisturbed.
But, just to oblige you, we'll get down to it.... Kirkwood, you have a revolver of mine. Be good enough to return it." "I have it here, under the table," interrupted Brentwick suavely. "Shall I hand it to you?" "By the muzzle, if you please. Be very careful; this one's loaded, too apt to explode any minute."
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