“It may seem a little nonsensical matter to you, Hamilton,” said Trevannion, putting his hand behind him; “but these little things exhibit more than the greatest professions. I am not too lazy to cure myself of old habits, if you are.”
“I never make professions,” said Hamilton, proudly; “and I have done.”
He was turning away, when a sudden motion from Jones arrested him. Jones had been standing silently by Trevannion, and now, leaping over a desk, seized Louis, and dragged him in the centre of the group, to the great astonishment of both himself and his brother, exclaiming:
“Here's the offender, the tell-tale, the hypocrite, the meek good boy, so anxious of Ferrers' reputation!”
“What do you want with me?” exclaimed Louis angrily, struggling to free himself from his captor.
“Hands off! Leave him alone, Jones,” shouted Reginald. “What's all this about?”
“Do let him go,” said Hamilton. “Can't you let him alone?”
“He's the traitor, Hamilton.”
Hamilton could not deny it, for it could have been no one else.
“Well, it is past, and the punishment he has in his own feelings will be enough,” he said. “Let him alone.”