“He saved my life, Buller, at the risk of his own; and I think a heap of him, even if he does lack a little polish.”
“Yes, sir,” he said now in his most correct manner, and went out to return in a moment. “This way, Mr. Crash,” I heard him say as he opened the door, and not a trace of feeling was on his stolid face as he ushered him in.
Karasch was vastly impressed at finding me in such surroundings and his fine dark eyes rolled about him with a gaze of wonderment and settled first upon Chris, who got up at his entrance, and then upon me. I think he was not a little nervous for all his attempt to appear self-possessed.
“I have done my lord’s bidding,” he said at length.
“Is your arm better, Karasch?”
He started as though the question recalled the old tussle between us. “It is getting well, my lord.” He felt apparently that I ought to be addressed by some title.
“Good; then sit down and tell me what you’ve done; and by the way, don’t call me my lord.”
A glance round the room and a waive of the hand shewed me his thought. “As you please, Excellency; I am only your servant.”
“Very well, we’ll leave it at that. Now tell me your news.”
“I have seen the friends of the men who took away the lady, and I know who they were serving. I have also seen her and know who she is.”