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Updated: June 14, 2025
It shows how impossible it is to leave the conduct of one's affairs wholly in the hands of another person. Now there is a further matter, Mr. Ducaine, concerning which I desired to speak to you. I refer to your projected lecture last night." "I beg that your Grace will not allude to it," I said, hastily. "It is really of very little importance."
Already my lips were opened, when round the corner of the rough lane by which Braster Grange was approached on this side came a doctor's gig. Ray shaded his eyes and gazed at its occupant. "Is this Bouriggs, Ducaine?" he asked, "the man who shot with us?" "It is Dr. Bouriggs," I answered.
Guy Ducaine. A moment after he recognized me." A grim smile parted Ray's lips, but I could not repress a shudder. Invariably at any reference to that awful night the old fear came back. "He seemed at first paralyzed with fear," Ray continued. "He tried to slip away into the marshes, but I caught him easily, and held him so that he could not escape.
Ducaine, I believe that if Blenavon is really concerned in this, it is entirely through her influence." "Very likely," I answered. "I have heard strange things about her. She is a dangerous woman." We were both silent for a moment. Then Lady Angela, whose eyes were fixed seawards, suddenly turned to me. "Oh," she cried, "I am weary of all these bothers and problems and anxieties.
Let me see, I am sure that I know your face, do I not?" she added, turning to Blanche Moyat with a smile. "You live in Braster, surely?" "I am Miss Moyat," Blanche answered quietly. "Of course. Dear me! I ought to have recognized you. We have been neighbours for a good many years." "I will wish you good-afternoon, Mr. Ducaine," Blanche said, turning to me.
"It was a terribly dark night, and it is not easy to identify a hand. Besides, it was snatched away almost at once." "In your own mind, Ducaine," Chelsford said, "have you hazarded a guess as to who that unseen person might be?" "It is too serious a matter to hazard guesses about, sir," I answered.
"It is a voyage which I have long desired to take," I answered coolly, "though I never expected to enjoy it at my country's expense." The Duke rang the bell. "Will you have Mr. Ducaine's things packed and sent across did you say to your house, Lord Chelsford?" "To my house," Lord Chelsford assented. "To No. 19, Grosvenor Square," the Duke ordered. "Mr. Ducaine will not be returning."
I tore it open with trembling fingers. The handwriting was firm and yet delicate. I knew at once whose it was. "Rowchester, Tuesday. "DEAR MR. DUCAINE, My father wishes me to say that he and Lord Chelsford will call upon you to-morrow morning, between ten and eleven o'clock. With best regards, I am, "Yours sincerely, The letter slipped from my hands on to the table.
This place is scarcely so much a nest of conspirators as faddists like Chelsford and Ray would have us believe." "I am glad to hear that you think so, sir," I answered. "Our precautions do seem a little elaborate, but it is quite certain that the Winchester papers were disturbed." "I do not choose to believe it, Ducaine," the Duke said irritably. "Kindly remember that!"
What do you think, Mr. Ducaine?" I was more interested in the discussion than anxious to be drawn into it, so I returned an evasive reply. Mrs. Moyat nodded sympathetically. "Of course," she said, "you haven't seen the house except from the road, but I've been over it many a time when Mrs. Felton was housekeeper and the Duke didn't come down so often, and I say that it's a poor place for a Duke."
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