I agree with you there is; but you are
not the man, I take it, to flinch on that account."

This adroit stroke of Talbot's settled the matter; and Mark felt ashamed
to offer any objection to a course, which, however disinclined to, he
now believed was accompanied by a certain amount of peril.

CHAPTER XXXII. A PRESAGE OF DANGER

When the long-wished-for evening drew nigh, in which Talbot had pledged
himself to reveal to Mark the circumstances of their enterprise, and
to make him known to those concerned in the plot, his manner became
flurried and excited;--he answered, when spoken to, with signs of
impatience, and seemed so engrossed by his own thoughts, as to be unable
to divert his attention from them. Mark, in general the reverse of a
shrewd observer, perceived this, and attributing it to the heavy losses
he had latterly incurred at play, forebore in any way to notice
the circumstance, and from his silence Talbot became probably more
indifferent to appearances, and placed less restraint on his conduct.
He drank, too, more freely than was his wont, and appeared like one
desirous by any means to rid himself of some unwelcome reflections.

"It is almost time to dress, Mark," said he, with an effort to seem easy
and unconcerned. "Let us have another flask of Burgundy before we go."

"I'll have no more wine, nor you, if you will be advised by me, either,"
said Mark, gravely.

"Ha! then you would imply I have drank too much already, Mark? Not far
wrong there, perhaps, and under ordinary circumstances such would be the
case; but there are times when the mind, like the body, demands double
nourishment, and with me wine strengthens, never confuses thought.
Do you know, Mark, that I have a presentiment of some evil before
me;--whence, and in what shape it is to come, I cannot tell you; but I
feel it as certain as if it had been revealed to me."

"You are despondent about our prospects," said Mark, gloomily.

Talbot made no answer, but leaned his head on the chimney-piece, and
seemed buried in deep thought;--then recovering himself, he said, in a
low, but distinct accent--

"Did you take notice of a fellow at the tennis-court the other day,
who stood beside me all the time I was settling with the marker? Oh!
I forgot--you were not there. Well, there was such a one--a
flashy-looking, vulgar fellow, with that cast of countenance that
betokens shrewdness and cunning. I met him yesterday in the Park, and
this eveni