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He kicked the door shut behind him and lolled against it while he lit a cigarette. Gila's laugh rang harshly in the room again, following some low-toned remark, and the man laughed coarsely in reply. Then, suddenly, she looked up and saw Courtland standing sternly there with folded arms, regarding her steadily, and her eyes grew wide with horror. It was Courtland's great disillusionment.
Walter now despairing of hearing more, purchased the whip; and blessing the worldly wisdom of Sir Peter Hales, that had thus thrown him on a clue, which, however faint and distant, he resolved to follow up, he inquired the way to Squire Courtland's, and proceeded thither at once. God's my life, did you ever hear the like, what a strange man is this!
Linton's carriage received Phyllis. Lord Earlscourt took a seat in Mr. Courtland's hansom. "What do you think about Mr. Courtland?" inquired Ella of her dearest friend, as they lay back with their heads very close together. There was a long pause before Phyllis replied: "I really don't know what I think about him. He is, I suppose, the bravest man alive at present." "What?
"He never tires of talking of it to me so I suppose I am." A few moments later the train glided beside the Redlands platform. As the two travelers descended a hand was laid on Courtland's shoulder, and a stout figure in the blackest and shiniest of alpaca jackets, and the whitest and broadest of Panama hats, welcomed him. "Glad to see yo', cun'nel.
With what was passing in Courtland's mind the question seemed so bitterly ironical that at first he leaned half angrily forward, in an unconscious attempt to catch the speaker's expression in the darkness. "I should hardly venture to give an opinion," he said, after a pause. "Miss Dows' relations with her neighbors are so very peculiar.
"But that will not prevent the newspapers that are on the side of Wales and the missionaries from saying what they please in the way of comment on the atrocities in New Guinea." "Mr. Courtland will not mind whatever they may say," cried Phyllis. "That was the view I took of the matter in regard to Mr. Courtland's attitude when you mentioned it to me at first," said he.
Say anything about this to a living soul, and I'll have yo' flogged! Now trot out the whiskey bottle and pour it down him." When Courtland's eyes opened again, he was in bed in his own room at Redlands, with the vivid morning sun occasionally lighting up the wall whenever the closely drawn curtains were lightly blown aside by the freshening breeze.
A couple of belated participants in the fray arrived breathlessly, shedding their mackinaws as they ran, and casting them down at Courtland's feet. "Look after those, will you, Court? We've got to get in on this," shouted one as he thrust a noisy bit of flannel head-gear at Courtland. Courtland gave the garments a kick behind him and stood watching.
Colonel Courtland lifted his hat to Miss Miranda and her niece at the same moment that Champney moved forward and ranged himself beside them. Miss Sally, catching Courtland's eye, showed the whites of her own in a backward glance of mischievous significance to indicate the following Reeds.
Pat looked up at the sign and then at Courtland's face, figuring out, as he usually could, what was the matter with Court. "Gosh! That's darned tough luck!" he said, sympathetically. "It's terrible!" said Courtland. "H'm!" said Pat, again. "Whose fault do you s'pose it is? Not God's. Somebody fell down on his job, I reckon! Congregation gone to the devil, very likely!"
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