“If you’ll step aside for a moment,” said the man, very respectfully, indeed apologetically, “I will show you. These are the items,” and he took some papers from a greasy pocketbook, and read them off.
Lord Cecil recognized them as some old debts, bills and I O U’s, which he had almost forgotten.
“Yes, that is right, I expect,” he said, gravely, and very wearily. “But I thought,” he said, as the idea occurred to him, “that there was no arrest for debt now?”
The man smiled almost pityingly.
“Nor is there, my lord; it’s called contempt of court now! You have been ordered to pay these sums by the court, and you haven’t done it, therefore it’s contempt, and they take you on that.”
“Ordered to pay them?” said Cecil. “When? I have heard nothing of it.”
The man looked incredulous of so much innocence, for a moment, but, after a long and steady scrutiny of the pale, grave face, with its frank, honest eyes, he looked puzzled.
“Hem! I don’t quite see. Ah, yes, I do! These processes have been served on your lawyers, no doubt, my lord. Haven’t they let you know?”
“No,” said Lord Cecil, quietly. “I have been away in Ireland. I’ve seen no letters——”
“It’s plain enough, my lord,” said the officer. “You ought to have had your letters forwarded. The court has been under the impression that you’ve neglected the order out of sheer contrariness, and so these creditors have got the warrant. Ah, my lord, no end of mischief comes of you swell gentlemen not opening your letters. I’m very sorry, but here’s the warrant, and I’m bound to execute it.”