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Updated: June 29, 2025
McQuae heard his voice, and gave a start that all but pitched him into the water. "Good God!" he cried, "I'd forgotten all about it." "About what?" I asked. "Why, it's the Palmers and the Grahams and the Hendersons. I've asked them all over to lunch, and there's not a blessed thing on board but two mutton chops and a pound of potatoes, and I've given the boy a holiday."
I asked. "Tried!" he exclaimed bitterly. "I've been knocking at doors, and asking if Mrs. McQuae lives there steadily all the afternoon, and they slam the door in my face, mostly without answering. I told a policeman I thought perhaps he might suggest something but the idiot only burst out laughing, and that made me so mad that I gave him a black eye, and had to cut.
It transpired afterwards that he was engaged to three girls at the time. "Oh, all right," said Hallyard, and they went away together in a hansom. An hour and a half later Hallyard walked into the smoking-room looking depressed and worn, and flung himself into a chair. "I thought you were going to Richmond with McQuae," I said. "So did I," he answered. "Had an accident?" I asked. "Yes."
"Well, doctor," said Adair, when the latter was paying him a visit, "we are not to be blown up yet, and I hope that the old rock will stand firm enough until long after we have left it, unless we are to spend our lives here." "That's no reason why that fearful event should not some day occur, captain," answered Dr McQuae. "I last night heard worse rumblings than have yet occurred.
"McQuae!" I exclaimed. "By Jove!" he said, "I was never so glad to see a man in all my life before." And he nearly shook my hand off. "But what in thunder!" I said, "are you doing here? Why, you're drenched to the skin." He was dressed in flannels and a tennis-coat. "Yes," he answered. "I never thought it would rain. It was a lovely morning."
Another day I was lunching with him at the Junior Hogarth, when a man named Hallyard, a mutual friend, strolled across to us. "What are you fellows going to do this afternoon?" he asked, seating himself the opposite side of the table. "I'm going to stop here and write letters," I answered. "Come with me if you want something to do," said McQuae. "I'm going to drive Leena down to Richmond."
"They might have guessed what had happened," he added, "by the shifting of the cart, if they'd had any sense. I'm not a light-weight." He complained of soreness, and said he would go home. I suggested a cab, but he replied that he would rather walk. I met McQuae in the evening at the St. James's Theatre. It was a first night, and he was taking sketches for The Graphic.
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