"Lord in Heaven," he muttered, "it's all over, I'm done." And his
hand felt for a little metal box he carried in his waistcoat pocket
and that held half a dozen small round tablets, each of them a strong
man's death.
But he took his hand away again as he rejoined his cousin, patron,
and employer, old Lord Chobham.
"What's the matter, Walter?" Lord Chobham asked. "You look pale."
"The fellow was a bit impudent; he made me angry," said Walter
carelessly. He fingered the little box in his waistcoat pocket and
thought how one tablet on his tongue would always end it all. "By
the way, oughtn't Rupert to be back soon?" he asked.
"Yes, he ought," said Lord Chobham severely. "It's time he married
and settled down--I shall speak to his father about it. The boy
is always rushing off somewhere or another when he ought to be
getting to know the estate and the tenants."
Walter Dunsmore laughed.
"I think he knows them both fairly well already," he said. "Not a
tenant on the place but swears by Rupert. He's a fine fellow, uncle."
"Oh, you always stick up for him; you and he were always friends,"
answered Lord Chobham in a grumbling tone, but really very pleased.
"I know I'm never allowed to say a word about Rupert."
"Well, he's a fine fellow and a good friend," said Walter, and the
two disappeared into the house by a small side-door as Dunn pushed
his way through the group of tourists who looked at him with marked
and severe disapproval.
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