I shook my head.
"No! but I thought of running over to the States next week."
Gilbert laid down his cigar, and looked at me anxiously.
"Have you seen a doctor lately, Hardross?" he asked.
"Not necessary," I answered. "I'm as fit as I can be!"
"Then will you tell me," he asked, "why, with the shooting just on, and
the hunting in full view, you are talking of going to America?"
"I've had a good many years of hunting and shooting and cricket and sport
of all sorts, Gilbert," I answered. "Perhaps I'm not quite so keen as I
was."
"If you are not going to America for sport," my cousin asked, "what are
you going for?"
I rose to my feet.
"Gilbert," I said, "it's no use. Some day or other you will know all
about it--perhaps very soon. But, for the present, I can tell you
nothing. I've stumbled into a queer place, and I've got to get out of it
somehow. Wish me good luck, old chap!" I added, holding out my hand;
"and--if anything should happen to me abroad--look after the old
place--it'll be yours, you know, every stick and stone.
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