There is some talk of your buying a
hunter for Lionel, is there not, by-the-bye?"
"Yes. They know I am a tolerable judge of horseflesh, and Douglas
wishes me to get his brother a good mount for the winter."
"When is the animal to be chosen?" asked Victor, carelessly.
"Immediately. We go down to Hallgrove next week, I shall select the
horse whenever I can get Douglas to go with me to the dealer's, and
send him down to get used to his new quarters before his hard work
begins."
"Good. Let me know when you are going to the horse-dealer's: but if you
see me there, take no notice of me beyond a nod, and be careful not to
attract Douglas Dale's attention to me or introduce me to him."
"What do you mean by that?" asked Reginald, looking suspiciously at his
companion.
"What should I mean except what I say? I do not see how even your
imagination can fancy any dark meaning lurking beneath the common-place
desire to waste an afternoon in a visit to a horse-dealer's yard."
"My dear Carrington, forgive me," exclaimed Reginald. "I am irritable
and impatient. I cannot forget the misery of those last days at
Raynham."
"Yes," answered Victor Carrington: "the misery of failure."
No more was said between the two men. The sway which the powerful
intellect of the surgeon exercised over the weaker nature of his friend
was omnipotent. Reginald Eversleigh feared Victor Carrington.
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