When the men returned from their fishing trip at six o’clock they saw several of the women on the lake, but there was no one in the living-room.  Clavering tapped at Mr. Dinwiddie’s door, but as there was no answer, concluded that he and Mary had not yet returned from Huntersville.  He was too desirous of a bath and clean clothes, however, to feel more than a fleeting disappointment, and it was not until his return to his room that he saw a letter lying on the table.

It was addressed in Mary’s handwriting, and he stared at it in astonishment for a second, then tore it open.  It was dated “Huntersvilie, Monday afternoon,” and it read: 

“Dear Lee: 

“Mr. Dinwiddie will tell you that unforeseen circumstances have arisen which compel me to go to New York for a few days.  It is excessively annoying, but unavoidable, and I do not ask you to follow me as I should hardly be able to see anything of you.  If there is a prospect of being detained it will not be worth while to return and I’ll let you know at once-on Thursday night by telephone; and then I hope you will not wait for the others, but join me here.  Indeed, dear Lee, I wish this need not have happened, but at least we had three days. -M.”

Clavering read this letter twice, hardly comprehending its purport.  She made no mention of Judge Trent.  The whole thing was ambiguous, curt.  A full explanation was his right; moreover, it was the reverse of a love letter.  Even its phrases of regret were formal.  Something was wrong.

He put on his clothes hurriedly in order to go in search of Dinwiddie, but before he had finished he heard a sound in the next room and opened the connecting door unceremoniously.

Mr. Dinwiddie braced himself as he saw Clavering’s set face.

“Too bad,” he muttered, but Clavering cut him short.

“I want the truth.  What took Mary to New York?”

“Surely she explained in her letter.”

“She explained nothing.  There’s some mystery here and I want it cleared up at once.”

“By God!  I’ll tell you!” Mr. Dinwiddie burst out.  “Mary exacted no promise-I suppose she took for granted I’d not tell you, for she told me what she had written.  But if she had I’d tell you anyhow.  I’d rather break a promise to a woman than lie to a friend.  Believe men should stand by one another.  She went down there this morning to meet Hohenhauer.”

“Hohenhauer!” Clavering’s face turned almost black.

“Yes.  Trent telegraphed me yesterday that Hohenhauer was arriving at Huntersville last night and would come up here in the morning to see Mary.  He said the matter was most important.  I went to Mary’s room after you came in from the lake and showed her the message.  She was extremely annoyed and said at first that she wouldn’t see him.  But I pointed out that she couldn’t possibly avoid it.  Then she said he shouldn’t come up here, and she was very emphatic about it.  The only thing to do was to take her down.  Of course you will be reasonable and see there was nothing else to be done.”

“What did that infernal blackguard want of her?  And why did she go off with him?”

“She didn’t go off with him.  She hired a car directly after lunch intending to drive as far as Saratoga and take a train from there.  She left Hohenhauer to cool his heels until it was time to take the local for the Adirondack Express.  She could easily have taken him along, but I think she was meting out punishment.”

“Punishment?”

“Yes.  They had a private conference for nearly two hours, and, whatever happened, it put her in an infernally bad humor.  She scarcely opened her mouth during luncheon, and as Mary is a woman of the world, used to concealing her feelings, I thought it highly significant.  She looked as if she were in a secret frozen rage.  Hohenhauer, however, was quite himself, and the meal-corned beef and cabbage!-went off very well.”

“What did he want of her?”

“Of that I haven’t the vaguest idea.  Something momentous, beyond a doubt.  If I may hazard a guess, it has something to do with this special mission of his, and it is quite possible that he has asked her to go to Washington-insisted upon it-appealing to her love of Austria.  I confess I don’t see what she can accomplish there, for she never did have any Washington connections-of course she could get letters from Trent and trust to her personal power and prestige.  But let me tell you that she didn’t do it to please him.  She looked as if she hated him.”

“Is he still in love with her?  Are you sure he didn’t come here to ask her to marry him?”

“If he did he had his journey for his pains-although I can see that it would be a highly desirable combination from his point of view.  But he’s not in love with her.  I’ll stake all I know of men on that.”

“You are sure?”

“As sure as that I’m alive.”

“Well, I take the morning train for New York.”

“Lee,” said Mr. Dinwiddie impressively, “take the advice of an old man, who has seen a good deal of men and women in his day, and stay where you are until you hear from Mary.  Some sort of crisis has arisen, no use blinking the fact, but if you burst in on her now, while she is Madame Zattiany, encased in a new set of triple-plated armor, you may ruin all your chances of happiness.  Whatever it is let her work it out-and off-by herself.  I made her promise she would not leave the country without seeing you again-for I didn’t know what might be in the wind-and when she had given her word she added that she had not the least intention of not seeing you again, and that it was quite possible she would return to the camp.  If you go down you’ll spoil everything.”

“I suppose I can trust you, Din, but I’ve seen plainly that you don’t want me to marry her.”

“That is true enough.  I want nothing less-for your sake; and Hohenhauer would be a far more suitable match for her.  But I don’t believe you even question my faith -”

“No.  I don’t.  You’re a brick, Din.  But I’m unspeakably worried-almost terrified.  I have never felt that I really knew her.  She may have only imagined-but that is impossible!  How in God’s name am I to sit round here for three days and twiddle my thumbs?”

“Don’t.  Take one of the men and go off on a three days’ tramp.  Climb Mount Moose.  That will give you no chance to think.  All your thinking will be in your muscles.”

“And suppose she should return-or telegraph me to go to her?”

“If she returns and finds you gone it’ll serve her right.  And she won’t telegraph before Thursday-if she’s going to Washington.  Now take my advice and don’t be a fool.”

Clavering shrugged his shoulders, but he set his lips.  “Very well.  I won’t follow her.  Nor will I forgive her in a hurry, either.”

“That’s healthy.  Give her a piece of your mind, have a good row, and then make it up.  But let me tell you, my dear boy, that she was horrified at the thought of that man coming up here, and she only refrained from telling you of the summons, so to speak, because she wanted to spare you any anxiety.  There’s no doubt in my mind that she’s as much in love with you as you are with her. . . .  You have none, I suppose?”

“None.  Particularly lately.  I hadn’t told you, but I had intended, in a day or two, to ask you if you would let me have the camp for a few weeks.  We intended to marry in Huntersville the day the rest of you went out.”

Mr. Dinwiddie whistled.  “No wonder she was furious at having her preliminary honeymoon disturbed.  But if that is the case of course she’ll return.  You’re more than welcome to the camp, and I’ll send whatever you need from time to time.  You’ve only to command me. . . .  It makes it all the more comprehensible.  Whatever it was that man said to her, she wanted to get over it by herself before coming back to the place where she had forgotten that Hohenhauers and politics existed.  I could see how it was with her here.  She looked exactly as she used to in the old days, and I don’t doubt felt like it, too.  No wonder she resented being forced back into the rôle of Madame Zattiany, or Graefin-countess-as he calls her.  You must let her thresh it out by herself.”

“You believe she will come back.”

“If that was your plan, I assuredly do.  There isn’t a spark of human affection between those two, and Mary never placed herself in any man’s power.  I am more and more inclined to believe that he appealed to her for help in his mission here, whatever it is-and it’s not so difficult to guess-and that against her inclination and out of her love for Austria, she consented.”

“Well, it’s no use to speculate.  There’s the supper bell.  I’ll decide in the morning whether I go off for a tramp or not.”