"I'll confess there were times when I thought we were rolling down the mountain," said Lorry, with a relieved shake of the head.
"Sometimes I thought we were soaring through space, whether upward or downwards I could not tell. We never failed to come to earth, though, did we?" she laughingly asked.
"Emphatically! Earth and a little grief," he said, putting his hand to his head.
"Does it pain you?" she asked, quickly.
"Not in the least. I was merely feeling to see if the cut were still there. Mr--Mr. Guggenslocker, did the conductor object to holding the train?" he asked, remembering what the conductor had told him of the old gentleman's actions.
"At first, but I soon convinced him that it should be held," said the other, quietly.
"My husband spoke very harshly to the poor man," added Aunt Yvonne. "But, I am afraid, Caspar, he did not understand a word you said. You were very much excited." The sweet old lady's attempts at English were much more laborious than her husband's.
"If he did not understand my English, he was very good at guessing," said her husband, grimly.
"He told me you had threatened to call him out," ventured the young man.
"Call him out? Ach, a railroad conductor!" exclaimed Uncle Caspar, in fine scorn.
"Caspar, I heard you say that you would call him out," interposed his wife, with reproving eyes.
"Ach, God! God! I have made a mistake! I see it all! It was the other word I meant--down not out! I intended to call him down, as you Americans say. I hope he will not think I challenged him." He was very much perturbed.
"I think he was afraid you would," said Lorry.
"He should have no fear. I could not meet a railroad conductor. Will you please tell him I could not so condescend? Besides, dueling is murder in your country, I am told."
"It usually is, sir. Much more so than in Europe." The others looked at him inquiringly. "I mean that in America when two men pull their revolvers and go to shooting at each other, some one is killed--frequently both. In Europe, as I understand it, a scratch with a sword ends the combat."
"You have been misinformed," exclaimed Uncle Caspar, his eyebrows elevated.
"Why, Uncle Caspar has fought more duels than he can count," cried the girl, proudly.
"And has he slain his man every time?" asked Grenfall, smilingly, glancing from one to the other. Aunt Yvonne shot a reproving look at the girl, whose face paled instantly, her eyes going quickly in affright to the face of her uncle.