Nick did not wait to finish out the sentence in his mind.  The Japanese servant, who was cook and valet and chamberman, had brought the telegram and the last luncheon dish at the same time.  Now he was providing Billy the chauffeur with something to eat.  But Nick did not wait or even think about Billy.  The engagement with Mrs. Gaylor and Angela was for five o’clock, but that made no difference to Nick, with the telegram in his hand.  Knowing what he knew—­for he did know now, as if he had seen all Wisler’s proofs—­he would not trust Angela alone with Carmen for a single hour.  He was going this instant to snatch her away, with no matter what excuse.  He would think of something to satisfy Angela, for she must not find out the truth if he could help it—­anyhow, not while she was under Carmen’s roof; it would shock and distress her too much.  The principal thing was to get her out of the place quickly and quietly.  As for Carmen—­he could not decide yet how he should deal with Carmen.  Loyal as he was by nature, and as he had shown himself to Wisler, modest as to his own deserts, and slow to fancy himself valued by any woman, he could not now help seeing, as Wisler had seen the one motive which could have tempted Carmen Gaylor to send Angela May a box of poison-oak.  Many little things came back, in a flood of disturbing memory; things to which Nick had attached no importance at the time, or had misunderstood, owing to his humility, where women were concerned, and his chivalrous, almost exaggerated respect for his employer’s wife and widow—­the generous, disinterested friend that he had thought her.  “What a fool—­what a double-dyed fool!” he anathematized himself, as he got the motor ready to start, while Billy still ate apple-pie and cream on the kitchen veranda.  In spite of Wisler’s catechism he had let Angela accept Carmen’s invitation, had even urged her to accept.  If anything hideous happened it would be his fault.  But no, surely nothing would happen.  It was too bad to be true.  If Carmen had committed the crime of sending the poison-oak, it must have been in a fit of madness, after hearing things—­stupid things—­from Miss Dene.  By this time she must have repented.  She could not be a woman and harm a guest—­such a guest as Angela May and in her own house.

And yet it was odd—­he had dimly thought it odd, even in his ignorance—­that Carmen should have followed them out to the Big Trees from Wawona, there to make a “dead set” at Mrs. May.  She had said that her choice of the Yosemite for rest and change of air was a coincidence; that she had not known he was in the neighbourhood until she heard the news at Wawona.  But suddenly Nick ceased to believe that story.  She had gone because he was there—­with Angela May.