up on
bread-and-butter, when there appeared cold asparagus, served in
individual silver holders resembling andirons. Then--appetite now being
sufficiently whetted--there came quail, in piping hot little
casseroles--; and then half a grape-fruit set in a block of ice and
filled with wine; and then little squab ducklings, bursting fat, and an
artichoke; and then a _cafe parfait_; and then--as if to crown the
audacity--huge thick slices of roast beef! Montague had given up long
ago--he could keep no track of the deluge of food which poured forth.
And between all the courses there were wines of precious brands,
tumbled helter-skelter,--sherry and port, champagne and claret and
liqueur. Montague watched poor "Baby" de Mille out of the corner of his
eye, and pitied her; for it was evident that she could not resist the
impulse to eat whatever was put before her, and she was visibly
suffering. He wondered whether he might not manage to divert her by
conversation, but he lacked the courage to make the attempt.
The meal was over at four o'clock. By that time most of the other
parties were far on their way to New York, and the inn was deserted.
They possessed themselves of their belongings, and one by one their
cars whirled away toward "Black Forest."
Montague had been told that it was a "shooting-lodge." He had a vision
of some kind of a rustic shack, and wondered dimly how so many people
would be stowed away. When they turned off the main road, and his
brother remarked, "Here we are," he was surprised to see a rather large
building of granite, with an archway spanning the road. He was still
more surprised when they whizzed through and went on.
"Where are we going?" he asked.
"To 'Black Forest,'" said Oliver.
"And what was that we passed?"
"That was the gate-keeper's lodge," was Oliver's reply.
CHAPTER IV
They ran for about three miles upon a broad macadamized avenue, laid
straight as an arrow's flight through the forest; and then the sound of
the sea came to them, and before them was a mighty granite pile,
looming grim in the twilight, with a draw-bridge and moat, and four
great castellated towers. "Black Forest" was built in imitation of a
famous old fortress in Provence--only the fortress had forty small
rooms, and its modern prototype had seventy large ones, and now every
window was blazing with lights. A man does not let himself be caught
twice in such a blunder; and having visited a "shooting-lodge
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