It will be an awful shame if he takes an unfair advantage of it, and claims the race." "Hartledon never took an unfair advantage in his life," spoke up Val Elster, in clear, decisive tones.

"You need not be afraid, Carteret.
I dare say his arm failed him." "Well, he might have hallooed when he found it failing, and not have suffered me to row all that way for nothing," retorted young Carteret.
"Not a trace could I see of him as I came back; he had hastened home, I expect, to shut himself up in his room with his damaged arm and foot." "I'll see what he's doing there," said Val.
He went out; but returned immediately.
"We are all under a mistake," was his greeting.

"Hartledon has not returned yet.

His servant is in his room waiting for him." "Then what do you mean by telling stories ?" demanded the countess-dowager, turning sharply on Mr.Carteret.
"Good Heavens, ma'am! you need not begin upon me!" returned young Carteret.

"I have told no stories.