Windlebird would bring one back with him when he returned from the
city, but Roland wanted one now. He was a great follower of county
cricket, and he wanted to know how Surrey was faring against Yorkshire.
But even this crumpled rose-leaf had been smoothed out, for Johnson,
the groom, who happened to be riding into the nearest town on an
errand, had promised to bring one back with him. He might appear at any
moment now.

The sight of his hostess drove all thoughts of sport out of his mind.
She was looking terribly troubled.

It flashed across Roland that both his host and hostess had been
unusually silent at dinner the night before; and later, passing Mr.
Windlebird's room on his way to bed, he had heard their voices, low and
agitated. Could they have had some bad news?

"Mr. Bleke, I want to speak to you."

Roland moved like a sympathetic cow, and waited to hear more.

"You were not up when my husband left for the city this morning, or he
would have told you himself. Mr. Bleke, I hardly know how to break it
to you."

"Break it to me!"

"My husband advised you to put a very large sum of money in a mine
called Wildcat Reefs."

"Yes. Thirty thousand pounds."