“I thank you very much, Lord Stairs,” said the bridegroom, warmly returning the greeting of the judge.

“But I fear I must condole with you also.  It was really too bad to have your honeymoon eclipsed at its rising, by a summons to attend as a witness on a criminal trial!—­too bad!  However, fortunately, the trial was a short one.  And you are now at liberty to fly to your bride!  I hope the duchess is well,” added his lordship.

“She has never been quite well, I grieve to say, since the catastrophe at Lone,” answered the duke, evasively.

“Ah, no! ah no!  It cannot be expected that she should be so yet.  It will take time!  It will take time!  By the way, where are you stopping, my dear Duke?  I am at the ‘Prince Consort!’ Will you come home with me and dine?” heartily inquired the baron.

“Many thanks, my lord.  But I am not staying in town.  I must hurry back to Lone this evening in order to secure the midnight express to London.  The most important business demands my immediate presence there,” gravely replied the young duke.

“Ah, of course! of course! the bride! the duchess!  Certainly, my dear duke.  I will not press you further,” said the baron, laughing cordially.

Neither of the gentlemen made the slightest allusion to the testimony given by the crown’s evidence which had cast so foul and false an aspersion on the character of the duke.

By this time the court-room was nearly emptied.

The duke and the baron walked out together.

The crowd had dispersed from before the court-house.

The duke and the baron shook hands and parted on the sidewalk.

“Give my warm respects to the duchess.  Tell her grace that I shall hope to meet her and present my congratulations in person, on her return from the Continent.  That will be in time for the meeting of Parliament, I presume,” said his lordship, as he was about to step into his carriage.

“Thanks, my lord.  Yes, I hope so,” answered his grace, as he lifted his hat and turned away.

The baron’s carriage drove off to his hotel.

The duke walked rapidly to the inn, where he had ordered his post-chaise to be put up.

He partook of a light luncheon while his horses were being harnessed, and then entered the chaise, attended by his valet, and ordered the coachman to drive as fast as possible, without hurting the horses, to Lone.

He was most anxious to reach the “Arondelle Arms,” to see if any telegram from Detective Setter had reached the office for him.

So long as the road ran through the Firwood, and was comparatively smooth and level, the coachman kept his horses at their best speed; but when it entered the mountain pass of the chain running around Loch Lone, he was compelled to drive slowly and carefully.

The sun set before they emerged from the pass, and it was nearly dark when the chaise drew up before the Arondelle Arms.