“And if I refuse your terms?” said Tuke, looking steadily at his man.
“Then I much regret it will be necessary to adopt coercive measures.”
The baronet drew himself up, the fury he had so long suppressed glinting in his eyes.
“You brazen scoundrel!” he cried, “to dare to assume that any threat could bring me to condone your villainy! Do your worst, you dog, and clinch your account with the devil!”
He was starting forward, when the other went swiftly to the door, opened it, looked back with a horrible smile, and vanished.
“And here endeth the first lesson,” said Mr. Tuke.
CHAPTER XLIV.
Upon the unfortunate gentleman, now committed to an irksome and most apprehensive solitude, fell a score of little demons of melancholy and alarm. To men of his fibre there is no chastening so bitter as confinement; and though with the master-rogue he had borne himself like the spirited knight of destiny he was, no sooner was he left alone than he found his indignation subordinated to reflections that were distracting to the last degree.
What would his companions think had become of him? and, failing his return, would they follow in his tracks and fall into that selfsame snare?
Was Miss Royston, with her lordling cavalier, even now established a prisoner in his house? or had she failed to respond to her brother’s invitation?