Why can't you
tell me?"
"Not so loud," I begged. "My mother and Fanny mustn't know till I am
gone."
"Gone!" With this she tore open the letter, and seemed to grasp its
general sense in a glance. "A duel! I suspected--from what Philip
said. Oh, my God, was he--?" She scanned the writing wildly, but in
her excitement it conveyed nothing to her mind.
"Captain Falconer will not annoy you again," I said, "and Philip and I
must go to France for awhile. Good-bye! Let mother and Fanny see the
letter in half an hour."
"But wait--thank God, he's not hurt!--France, you say? How? Which
road?"
She was holding my coat lapel, to make me stay and tell her. So I
answered:
"By post to Hastings; there we shall get the Doughty boys to--"
At this, there broke in another voice from above stairs--that of
Fanny:
"Is that Bert, Madge dear?"
"Tell her 'no,'" I whispered, appalled at thought of a leave-taking,
explanations, weeping, and delay. "And for God's sake, let me--ah,
thank you! Read the letter--you shall hear from us--God bless you
all!"
The next moment I was speeding from the house, leaving Madge in a
tumult of thoughts at the door. I turned into Gerrard Street without
looking back; and brisk walking soon brought me to the Strand, where
Philip himself was just ready to take the post-chaise.
"A strange thing delayed me," said he, as we forthwith took our seats
in the vehicle; which we had no sooner done than the postilions set
the four horses going and our journey was begun.
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