Furneaux would allow no other escort. He and Doris made off immediately.
When they were gone, Hart stared fixedly at an empty decanter.
"My dim recollection of your port, Jack, is that it was a wine of many
virtues and few vices," he mused aloud.
Grant took the hint, and went to a cellar. Returning, he found his crony
poring over the book which, singularly enough, figured prominently on
each occasion when the specter-producing window was markedly in
evidence. Hart glanced up at his host, and nodded cheerfully at a
dust-laden bottle.
"What is there in 'The Talisman' which needed so much research?" he
asked.
"Some lines by Sir David Lindsay, quoted by Scott," was the answer.
"Are these they?" And Hart read:
One thing is certain in our Northern land;
Allow that birth, or valor, wealth, or wit,
Give each precedence to their possessor,
Envy, that follows on such eminence,
As comes the lyme-hound on the roebuck's trace,
Shall pull them down each one.
"Yes," said Grant.
"Love isn't mentioned. The fair Doris will be true. You're in luck, my
boy. But somebody is out for your blood, and here is clear warning. Gee
whizz! If I remain in Steynholme a week I shall become an occultist.
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