The Guinea Stamp Read Online Free PDF

gruff with embarrassment.
    “My dear sir, need you ask? If a man cannot live in the style to which he was born, as far as Society’s concerned he does not exist.”
    “Nonsense!” repeated the Colonel. “You’re asked everywhere for twenty miles around Totnes. Tell you what, m’boy, you need a drink. Where is that damned rascal of a landlord all this time?”
    Thankful to turn the subject, he rose from his chair and strode to the door, hailing the landlord in stentorian tones which carried all over the house.
    “Beg pardon, y’r honour,” panted Nobby, coming up the passage almost at a run. “I’ve brought y’r honour’s wine, but there was a difficulty about the victuals. Will a cold meat pasty be to the liking o’ you gennelmen? ‘Tis all we can lay ‘ands on at present.”
    “Then it will have to do, won’t it?” was the impatient reply. “Very well, man, don’t stand there dithering! Bring in that wine, and tell them to fetch the pasty at the double.”
    Nobby mumbled some reply which the eavesdropper could not catch, and heavily departed.
    “Lunatics, the lot of ‘em!” pronounced the Colonel.
    He dropped into his chair again and extended his legs to the rapidly developing blaze, while he signalled to his junior officer to pour the wine. Captain Masterman complied, and presently handed a glass to his Colonel before taking a chair on the opposite side of the fireplace. His face was now in full view of the hidden watcher’s eyes.
    “Tell you what,” said the Colonel, suddenly. “Not a bad idea if we asked these people Lodge for a bed for the night. No sense in going on to Totnes tonight—men tired, wet through, hungry—far better in the morning.”
    “But I thought the landlord said—” began Captain Masterman.
    “So he did, but we can bed the men at that inn in the village he was talking of,” was the reply. “What’s its name—‘The Three Fishers’, that’s it. Know Lodge slightly, y’know, but only in the way that one’s acquainted with most people who matter in the county. Still, enough to ask him for a shake-down for the night—matter of patriotism, anyway, ain’t it? At the present time, I mean.”
    “I’m sure Sir George will be only too happy,” replied Captain Masterman. “He and his lady are the soul of hospitality.”
    “Pretty little gal they’ve got, too,” remarked the Colonel, thoughtfully. “Damned shame she’s to marry a Frenchman!”
    “Dorlais can scarcely be accounted a Frenchman nowadays,” replied the junior officer. “He’s been in England since he was a boy, and his sympathies and tastes are entirely English.”
    “Don’t know that a Frog can ever change his spots—ha, ha, ha!” laughed the Colonel, overcome by his own wit.
    The Captain laughed dutifully, but without conviction.
    “Anyway, little Miss Kitty’s wasted on him,” went on his superior officer. “Pity it wasn’t t’other one—her friend.”
    “You mean Miss Feniton?” asked Captain Masterman, in a guarded tone.
    “I do, indeed! She’s a stuck up piece of goods, if you like!” said the Colonel, with a snort.
    “Miss Feniton is perhaps a trifle reserved,” admitted the other man, reluctantly, “but I have never observed the least height in her manner.”
    “Reserved! Ice is warm in comparison. Give you my word! But I mustn’t say too much—fancy you’re a little taken in that quarter, yourself.”
    A trace of colour showed on Masterman’s high cheekbones.
    “Don’t mean to poke my nose in,” the Colonel assured him, soothingly. “None of my business, as I dare say you’ll tell me.”
    The hidden watcher’s mouth curved in amusement. It was quite evident that the junior officer knew his business better than to make any such remark.
    “My fillies don’t get on with the chit, that’s all,” finished the Colonel. “Easy going girls, too: defy anyone to quarrel with ‘em.”
    Captain Masterman said all that was proper concerning the Colonel’s young