Hints and whispers
would swell into a general cry, and Sir Reginald Eversleigh would find
himself tabooed.
The prospect before him looked black as night--a night illumined by one
lurid star, and that was the promise of Victor Carrington.
"It is time for me to have done with poverty," he said to himself.
"Lord Caversham's insolent innuendoes would be silenced if I had ten
thousand a year. It is clear that the game is up at Hilton House.
Paulina may as well go back to Paris or Vienna. The pigeons have taken
fright, and the hawks must seek a new quarry."
Sir Reginald drove straight from his club to the little cottage beyond
Malda Hill. He scarcely expected to find the man whom he had last seen
at an inn in Dorsetshire; but, to his surprise, he was conducted
immediately to the laboratory, where he discovered Victor Carrington
bending over an alembic, which was placed on the top of a small
furnace.
The surgeon looked up with a start, and Reginald perceived that he wore
the metal mask which he had noticed on a former occasion.
"Who brought you here?" asked Victor, impatiently.
"The servant who admitted me," answered Reginald. "I told her I was
your intimate friend, and that I wanted to see you immediately. She
therefore brought me here."
"She had no right to do so. However, no matter. When did you return? I
scarcely expected to see you in town as soon.
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