“Who, and what kind of person is he?”
“An officer of the Crown, sir; a tall man with a black patch over his eye.”
“An officer of the Crown,” thought Phillip, and his face turned crimson.
“What can he want here?” the old merchant asked.
“I know not, sir; but he is a swaggering kind of person, and is now walking up and down the stone passage entrance-hall, clanking his sword in a very fierce and valiant manner.”
“Did he give any name?” Phillip asked, in an uneasy manner.
“No, Mr. Phillip.”
“Admit him,” said the old man, impatiently. “What can any officer of the Crown want with us, I wonder?”
“I know not,” his son answered; “but, as it may be a matter of secresy, I will retire.”
“Nay, do not, my son; stay with me.”