“Of course, I will do all that with much pleasure. So my estimable relative, Stukely, has wound up his career by turning pirate and slaver in these war times! Well, something of the sort might have been expected of him. And his extradition has been demanded by the British Government, I hear.”
These last words fell on the ear of Capt. Grandiere, who immediately answered:
“Yes, and when they get him they’ll hang him, for they don’t mince matters with such scoundrels as we do! But, Force,” he added, turning to the squire, “an article in this morning’s paper, while it confirms the report about Stukely, denies that the extradition of Craven Cloud, or any other than the slaver captain, has been demanded. And that is plausible, too, for what time had they to hear of Craven Cloud, who has only passed a few weeks on board of the slaver by which he was taken prisoner?”
“And who is Craven Cloud?” demanded the general.
“Craven Cloud is the name our poor Roland took in his dire misery to save his own name from unmerited dishonor and to save his friends from the knowledge of his possible fate. I am glad that he is not included in this demand of your government.”
“So am I, for his extradition would have involved painful delays in getting his rights.”
Mr. Force then rang the bell and ordered a carriage—if one could be procured—to be at the door in twenty minutes.
Then he went up to Rosemary Hedge, took her hand, and said:
“Dear little, faithful heart, we are all going to get Roland out of prison. It may take us all day, for there may be lots of red tape to disentangle; but we expect to bring him back with us.”
Rosemary smiled gratefully.