“Missed their train!”

“First night performances are often slow, and they mayn’t have been able to get a cab at once.  It’s tiresome, but there’s no cause for anxiety.”

“Missed their train!”

“Well, they can’t all have been swallowed up by an earthquake!  Of course fire or a railway smash is on the cards, but the less thrilling explanation is more probable, don’t you think, old man?”

“Missed the last train and were obliged to stay in town?”

“And a rotten time they’ll have of it.  It’s no joke, trying to get rooms in a London hotel when you’ve ladies with you and no luggage.”

“You think Laura would let Hyde take her to an hotel?”

“Well, Berns, what else are they to do?” said Val impatiently.  “They can’t very well sit in a Waterloo waitingroom!”

“No, no,” said Clowes.  “Much better pass the night at an hotel.  Is that what you call a rotten time?  If I were Lawrence I should call it a jolly one.”

Val turned round from the window.  “If I were Hyde,” he said stiffly, “I should take the ladies to some decent place and go to a club myself.  You might give your cousin credit for common sense if not for common decency!  You seem to forget the existence of Isabel.”

“Oh, all right,” said Bernard after a moment.  “I was only joking.  No offence to your sister, Val, I’m sure Laura will look after her all right.  But it is a bit awkward in a gossippy hole like Chilmark.  When does the next train get in?”

No man knows offhand the trains that leave London in the small hours, but Val hunted up a timetable—­its date of eighteen mouths ago a pregnant commentary on life at Wanhope—­and came back with the information that if they left at seven-fifteen they could be at Countisford by ten.  “Too late to keep it quiet,” he owned.  “The servants are a nuisance.  But thank heaven Isabel’s with them.”

“Thank heaven indeed,” Bernard assented.  “Not that I care two straws for gossip myself, but Laura would hate to be talked about.  Well, well!  Here’s a pretty kettle of fish.  How would it be if you were to meet them at the station?  I suppose they’re safe to come by that train?  Or will they wait for a second one?  Getting up early is not Laura’s strong point at the best of times, and she’ll be extra tired after the varied excitements of the night.”

Val examined him narrowly.  His manner was natural if a trifle subdued; the unhealthy glow had died down and his black eyes were frank and clear.  Nevertheless Val was not at ease, this natural way of taking the mishap was for Bernard Clowes so unnatural and extraordinary:  if he had stormed and sworn Val would have felt more tranquil.  But perhaps after the fireworks of last night the devil had gone out of him for a season?  Yet Val knew from painful experience that Bernard’s devil was tenacious and wiry, not soon tired.