‘How are we to get the answer in time?' she asked. ‘Your letter will not be delivered in London before tomorrow morning and the post will not bring the reply here till the morning after.'
The only way of overcoming this difficulty was to have the answer brought to us from the lawyer's office by a special messenger. I wrote a postscript to that effect, begging that the messenger might be despatched with the reply by the eleven o'clock morning train, which would bring him to our station at twenty minutes past one, and so enable him to reach Blackwater Park by two o'clock at the latest. He was to be directed to ask for me, to answer no questions addressed to him by any one else, and to deliver his letter into no hands but mine.
‘In case Sir Percival should come back tomorrow before two o'clock,'
I said to Laura, ‘the wisest plan for you to adopt is to be out in the grounds all the morning with your book or your work, and not to appear at the house till the messenger has had time to arrive with the letter.
I will wait here for him all the morning, to guard against any misadventures or mistakes. By following this arrangement I hope and believe we shall avoid being taken by surprise. Let us go down to the drawing-room now.
We may excite suspicion if we remain shut up together too long.'
‘Suspicion?' she repeated. ‘Whose suspicion can we excite, now that Sir Percival has left the house? Do you mean Count Fosco?'
‘Perhaps I do, Laura.'
‘You are beginning to dislike him as much as I do, Marian.'
‘No, not to dislike him. Dislike is always more or less associated with contempt -- I can see nothing in the Count to despise.'
‘You are not afraid of him, are you?'
‘Perhaps I am -- a little.'
‘Afraid of him, after his interference in our favour today!'
‘Yes. I am more afraid of his interference than I am of Sir Percival's violence. Remember what I said to you in the library. Whatever you do, Laura, don't make an enemy of the Count!'
We went downstairs. Laura entered the drawing-room, while I proceeded across the hall, with my letter in my hand, to put it into the post-bag,17 which hung against the wall opposite to me.
The house door was open, and as I crossed past it, I saw Count Fosco and his wife standing talking together on the steps outside, with their faces turned towards me.
The Countess came into the hall rather hastily, and asked if I had leisure enough for five minutes' private conversation. Feeling a little surprised by such an appeal from such a person, I put my letter into the bag, and replied that I was quite at her disposal. She took my arm with unaccustomed friendliness and familiarity, and instead of leading me into an empty room, drew me out with her to the belt of turf which surrounded the large fish-pond.
As we passed the Count on the steps he bowed and smiled, and then went at once into the house, pushing the hall door to after him, but not actually closing it.
