"Certainly—certainly; speak on;" and he lent a magisterial ear.
"Excuse me, my business is private," said John, looking at the clerk.
"No business is private here," returned the 'squire, haughtily.
"Then shall I speak with you elsewhere? But I must have the honour of an interview with you, and immediately."
Whether Mr. Brithwood was seized with some indefinite alarm, he himself best knew why, or whether John's manner irresistibly compelled him to civility, as the stronger always compels the weaker, I cannot tell—but he signed to the clerk to leave the room.
"And, Jones, send back all the others to the lock-up house till tomorrow. Bless my life! it's near three o'clock. They can't expect to keep a gentleman's dinner waiting—these low fellows."
I suppose this referred only to the culprits outside; at all events, we chose to take it so.
"Now—you, sir—perhaps you'll despatch your business; the sooner the better."
"It will not take long. It is a mere matter of form, which nevertheless I felt it my duty to be the first to inform you. Mr. Brithwood, I have the honour of bearing a message to you from your cousin—Miss Ursula March."
"She's nothing to me—I never wish to see her face again, the—the vixen!"