But the indecision, which had been fatal to his race, was fatal to him. “You did your best to kill me,” he said. “I drink your very good health, Sir John and Lady Ferringhall,” he said, “and I wish you a pleasant journey back to England. The intruder was handsomely, even richly, attired in a scarlet riding-suit, embroidered with gold; a broad belt, to which a hanger was attached, crossed his shoulders; his boots rose above his knee, and he carried a laced hat in his hand. ‘Don’t lose your temper again. I’ve got imagination.
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