“I’m shockingly out of condition,” he observed. “I think I must have a weak heart. I am glad that revolver is in competent hands. I didn’t trust Miss Anne with it. Well, my young friend, as you say, now we can talk. I’m willing to admit that you stole a march upon me. Where the devil that revolver came from I don’t know. I had the girl’s luggage searched when she arrived. And where did you produce it from now? You hadn’t got it on you a minute ago?”
“Yes, I had,” I replied. “It was in my stocking.”
“I don’t know enough about women. I ought to have studied them more,” said Sir Eustace sadly. “I wonder if Pagett would have known that?”
Harry rapped sharply on the table.
“Don’t play the fool. If it weren’t for your grey hairs, I’d throw you out of the window. You damned scoundrel! Grey hairs, or no grey hairs, I——”
He advanced a step or two, and Sir Eustace skipped nimbly behind the table.
“The young are always so violent,” he said reproachfully. “Unable to use their brains, they rely solely on their muscles. Let us talk sense. For the moment you have the upper hand. But that state of affairs cannot continue. The house is full of my men. You are hopelessly outnumbered. Your momentary ascendency has been gained by an accident——”
“Has it?”
Something in Harry’s voice, a grim raillery, seemed to attract Sir Eustace’s attention. He stared at him.
“Has it?” said Harry again. “Sit down, Sir Eustace, and listen to what I have to say.” Still covering him with the revolver, he went on: “The cards are against you this time. To begin with, listen to that!”