“Oh, I say, Bazelhurst, settle with him for the dog,” said De Peyton nervously.  He looked at his watch and then at his wife.  The entire party now was listening to the principal speakers.

“Nonsense!” exclaimed Lady Evelyn.  “He won’t come.  It’s all bluster.  Don’t let it frighten you, Cecil.  I know the manner of man.”

“I wish you could have seen him this morning,” murmured Penelope, thoroughly enjoying the unexpected situation.  Her conscience was not troubled by the prevarication.

“By Jove, I think it would be wise to send over and find out what he valued the brute at,” said Cecil, mopping his brow.

“Good.  We’ll send Penelope to act as ambassador,” said her ladyship.  “She seems to be on friendly terms with the enemy.”

“To act as ambassador from Cowardice Court?” questioned Penelope, loftily, yet with cutting significance.  “No, I thank you.  I decline the honor.  Besides,” with a reflective frown, “I don’t believe it is diplomacy he’s after.”

“I say what the deuce do you suppose the confounded savage has in mind?” exclaimed the duke.  “I’ve heard of the way these cowboys settle their affairs.  You don’t imagine—­” and he paused significantly.

“It looks like it’s going to be a da—­rather disagreeable affair,” said De Peyton sourly.

“Good heavens, what are we to do if he comes here with a lot of desperadoes and begins to shoot?” cried Mrs. Odwell, genuinely alarmed.  “I’ve read so much of these awful mountain feuds.”

“Don’t be alarmed.  Lord Bazelhurst will attend to the gentleman,” said Lady Evelyn blandly.  His lordship’s monocle clattered down and the ice rattled sharply in his glass.

“To—­to be sure,” he agreed.  “Don’t be in the least worried.  I’ll attend to the upstart.  What time’s he coming, Pen?”

A door banged noisily near by, and every one jumped as though a gun had been fired.  While the “ohs” were still struggling from their lips, Hodder, the butler, came into the room, doing his best to retain his composure under what seemed to be trying circumstances.

“What is it, Hodder?” demanded her ladyship.

“The cook, your ladyship.  She’s fallen downstairs and broken her leg,” announced Hodder.  He did not betray it, but he must have been tremendously surprised by the sigh of relief that went up on all sides.  Lord Bazelhurst went so far as to laugh.

“Ha, ha! is that all?”

“Oh, dear, I’m so glad!” cried Miss Folsom, impulsively.  “I was frightened half to death.  It might have been Mr.—­”

“Don’t he silly, Rose,” said Lady Bazelhurst.  “Where is she, Hodder?”

“In the laundry, your ladyship.  There are two fractures.”

“By Jove, two legs instead of one, then—­worse than I thought,” cried Bazelhurst, draining his glass.

“Send at once for a doctor, Hodder, and take her to her room.  Isn’t it annoying,” said her ladyship.  “It’s so difficult to keep a cook in the mountains.”