"'Tis splendid fun!" commented Charley. "I only wish we could find him!"
The search took place, and not a corner was left an examined, except only the undiscovered hiding-place, which alone needed examination. The Squire pressed Captain Wallace to be his guest for another day, and so, for a different reason, did his eldest son. Captain Wallace accepted the offer, after a decent show of reluctance to save his conscience. Harry no longer pressed him to stay after the following morning, and he left the next day.
"Father," said Harry, in the evening, "I fear I am about to draw your displeasure upon me, but I have done what I thought right, and I must bear it. Sir Edward Ingram left this house at nine o'clock yesterday evening."
"Left this house!" cried the Squire and Madam Passmore, in a breath—the former adding some very powerful language, which shall not be reproduced here.
"Left the house," Harry repeated, calmly.
The Squire exploded a second time, telling his son, among other equally pleasant assertions, that he was a disgrace to his family and his country, and would come to the gallows before he was much older.
"Father," was Harry's dignified reply, "I am sorry for nothing, except that I have angered you. This man whom Wallace was seeking is a gentleman and a Protestant, and at the battle of Denain he saved my life, and gave me my liberty without ransom. Would you, as a man of conscience and honor, have advised me to give him up after that?"
The Squire growled something inaudible.
"Father!" said Celia, rising in her turn, very white and trembling, "this was my brother whom we concealed in your house last night. I will take half, or more than half, of whatever blame is due. Harry concealed him, but it was in my bed-chamber, and I brought him food, and assisted in his escape. Could I have delivered up my brother to death—the only brother I have left? Father, have you the heart to say so?"
"No, my dear!" said Madam Passmore, pouring a little oil upon the turbulent waters; "no, I am sure he never would—never!"