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Updated: May 14, 2025
He hesitated for some time as to whether he ought not to stay at home so as to be here when he arrived, but we persuaded him to come with us, and promised to send him back after luncheon. When we got to Chestow, however, the wind had become a gale, and it was impossible to shoot decently.
To come round by your house I have had to borrow a carriage from my friend Chestow. We shall have to drive to Norwich, and catch a train from there to London in the small hours of the morning. I presume the young lady is here?" "The young lady is here!" Duncombe answered. "May I inquire the name of the friend to whom you are asked to take her?" The Marquis yawned slightly. He, too, seemed weary.
"They have brought me a letter from the Duke of Chestow, and they have come to take you back to France." The girl looked fixedly for a moment at the Marquise. If any word or sign passed between them it escaped Duncombe. Phyllis was content, however, to ask no questions. "I am quite ready," she said calmly. The Marquise rose. "Your luggage can be sent on," she remarked.
Von Rothe was a little uneasy all the time, I could see, so he and I and a few of the others returned here, and the rest went up to Chestow. Just as we arrived Fielding passed us in a great motor car with his daughter behind. When we got to the house Von Rothe inquired for the messenger. He was told that he was in Mr.
"We really are heartily ashamed of ourselves for disturbing you at such an hour, Sir George," the man said, "but you will pardon us when you understand the position. I am the Marquis de St. Ethol, and this is my wife. I have a letter to you from my friend the Duke of Chestow, with whom we have been staying." Duncombe concealed his astonishment as well as he was able.
Will you please read it?" Duncombe tore open the envelope. "CHESTOW, Wednesday Evening. "MY DEAR DUNCOMBE, My friend De St. Ethol tells me that he is obliged, at great personal inconvenience, to execute a commission for a friend which involves a somewhat unceremonious call upon you to-night. He desires me, therefore, to send you these few lines. The Marquis de St.
Wheel that easy-chair up, Spencer, will you?" Spencer's brow had betrayed not the slightest sign of surprise, but Duncombe fancied that the Marquis had glanced at him keenly. He was holding a note in his hand, which he offered to Duncombe. "My errand is so unusual, and the hour so extraordinary," he said, "that I thought it would be better for Chestow to write you a line or two.
He lit one, and sat on the arm of an easy-chair. "The facts are these," he said. "I have a great friend in Paris who, knowing that I was at Chestow, and returning to France to-morrow, has, I must say, taken some advantage of my good nature. I am asked to call here and escort home to her friends a young lady, who, I understand, is for the moment a guest under your roof.
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