“This is very kind of you, Lord Delchester,” Jacob said, “but doesn’t it seem to you that, if this is the case, the persons who ought to leave are Mr. Dane Montague and Hartwell?”
“You are quite right,” the Marquis acknowledged. “You are absolutely right. But I will be frank with you. I am under great obligations to Mr. Dane Montague, obligations which I expect will be increased rather than diminished. I am exceedingly anxious not to quarrel with him. I cannot possibly countenance the scheme which he and his friend have on foot against you, so under the circumstances my only alternative is to beg you to leave by the first train to-morrow morning.”
Jacob sighed. Somehow or other, the dangers which had failed to materialise had become small things.
“I can only do as you desire, Marquis,” he consented. “For myself, I am not afraid. I am perfectly content to take my chance.”
The Marquis shook his head.
“There is too much cunning on the other side,” he declared. “The struggle would not be equal. You will be called at six o’clock, and I shall give myself the pleasure of breakfasting with you at half-past six downstairs. And, I have a further favour to ask you. I do not wish my wife or daughter to be aware of the circumstances which have led to my having to make you this regrettable request. I should be glad if you would write a line, say to my daughter, regretting that you are compelled to return to town on business.”
Jacob sighed once more, sat down and wrote as desired. His host thrust the note into his pocket.
“I wish you good night,” he said. “We shall meet in the morning, and, if I might ask it, would you make as little noise as possible in your movements? I do not wish those fellows to know that you are leaving until you are safe in the train. Your luggage can be sent after you.”
The Marquis made a dignified exit, and Jacob, with a shrug of the shoulders, undressed and tumbled into bed. On the whole, he was surprised to find that his chief sensation was one of disappointment. When he was called in the morning and found the sunshine filling the room, he felt half inclined to make a further appeal to his host’s hospitality. The Marquis gave him little opportunity, however. He was fully dressed and presided with dignity at a bountiful breakfast. He was looking a little tired, and he confessed that he had slept badly.
“I find myself,” he told Jacob, as the meal was concluded, “in an exceedingly painful situation. I have never before had to ask a guest to leave my house, and I resent very much the necessity.”