“Which is an insinuation that I was intentionally eavesdropping, and is on a par with your recent slurring observations concerning me.”
Now Inza was showing her satisfaction, which, however, was not unmingled with apprehension and dread as she glanced from Swift to her brother.
“I’m sure I have a right to my opinion,” said the young soldier, trying to return Merry’s steady, searching look, but finding it no easy task to meet those penetrating eyes.
“But you may find, sir, that it will be better for you not to express your opinions with too much freedom.”
“My tongue is my own, and I shall use it as I choose.”
“Then do not blame it if it gets you into trouble.”
“And many a man has found himself in a peck of trouble by talking too much,” put in Walter Burrage, thinking at the moment of himself and his own misfortune.
Roy Swift seemed to recognize something familiar about Walter’s voice, for he turned and looked searchingly at Inza’s brother. After a moment a light dawned upon him and he showed astonishment.
“Can it be you, Burrage?” he exclaimed. “By Jove! it is. I’m glad to see you, old man! You haven’t forgotten me—Swift?”
He held out his hand to Walter.