Chivey, very reluctantly, passed over the letter, muttering as he did so—
"Well, I'm blest if I don't think you would whistle a blackbird off the nest while you stole the eggs."
Herbert Murray took no notice of this speech; he was too deeply engrossed with the letter which he found read as follows—
"To Her Britannic Majesty's Consul at Marseilles:
"Sir,—I have already addressed several letters to you on the subject of the incarceration of myself and friends in the prison of Marseilles, on a charge of counterfeit coining. I also explained how we were led, by the artful devices of a person calling himself Markby, to be actually in the coiner's house when the police entered it, and, therefore, appearances are certainly against us. To all those letters you have made no reply, which I think is certainly hard, and not quite right, as I imagine the duty of a British consul includes looking after the interests of British subjects in the town or district he is stationed at.
"Now, sir, in my former letters I requested you to communicate with the bankers in this town, and also with my father, whose address I give below, and who placed money in their hands for my use. If you will do so, you will see that all the statements in my former letters are correct; but if you do not, a number of British subjects will probably be condemned and heavily sentenced, entirely through your neglect.
"Therefore, I beg of you at once to communicate with those who can identify me and my friends, and in the meantime to use your influence to postpone the trial till that communication can be effected.
"Your obedient servant,
"J. Harkaway, Junr."
"My eye!" said Chivey, when Murray had read the letter aloud, "ain't he getting his back up?"