Your devoted friend,
PEREGRINE VEREKER.
This letter despatched, I ordered a horse to be saddled; very soon,
thanks to Tom Martin's zeal, the animal was at the door and, though
the day was far advanced, I mounted forthwith and galloped away for
Wyvelstoke Towers.
CHAPTER II
I GO TO FIND DIANA
Birds were calling their melodious complaint on the passing of another
day and the shadows were lengthening when I came to a cross-roads
where stood a timeworn finger-post beneath which sat a solitary figure
in weather-beaten hat and coat, head bowed over the book opened upon
his knees.
Now at sight of this lonely figure I reined in so suddenly that this
solitary person glanced up and I saw the white hair, keen eyes and
pale, aquiline features of the Earl of Wyvelstoke. At sight of me he
closed the book and rose, and in stern features, in every line of his
slender, shabby figure was a stately aloofness that chilled me.
"My lord?" said I interrogatively, and taking off my hat, I bowed.
"Ah, Mr. Vereker," he answered, with a slight inclination of his head.
"So you come at last. A charming evening. I wish you as well of it as
you deserve!" And turning his back, he began to limp away; but in a
moment I was off my horse and, hastening after, ventured to touch his
arm, then fell back in sheer amazement before the ferocious glare of
his eyes; yet his voice was as politely modulated as usual when he
spoke:
"Sir, were you any other than Peregrine Vereker--old as I am, I would
call you out--and shoot you with peculiar satisfaction--"
"My lord--sir--?" I stammered.
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