“But if it be really true—if the poor fellow should be imprisoned for nothing, Skeff?”
“If so, I shall liberate him;” and as he spoke, he arose and walked the room with a haughty stride and a head erect “Write—
“'Sir,—I am directed by H. M.'s Chargé d'Affaires'—or rather say, 'The undersigned has to acknowledge the receipt of'—what's his name?”
“Samuel M'Gruder.”
“What a name!—'of Samuel M'Gruder's letter; and although he takes exception to the passages marked A and B, and requires explanation of the paragraph C, beginning at the words “nor can I,” and ending at “British subject”'—You 'll have to copy out the whole of this despatch, Bella, and then I shall mark the passages—Where was I?”
“'British subject.'”
“Yes, I remember. 'Yet that, conceding much to the feelings '—no, that is too familiar—'making allowances for an irritability—'”
“I don't think you can say that, Skeff. He has now been seven weeks in confinement.”
“'Lucky dog that he has not been seven weeks worked almost to a skeleton, like me, with the cares of a whole nation on my head, and the eyes of Europe upon me.”
“Just let me say that you will look into his case, and do your best to get him out of prison.”