"You speak in riddles, Captain Ackworth."
"I think you can answer them, Sir Daniel."
"I fear that I cannot," rejoined Jerce, shrugging.
But with all his calmness, an air of fear pervaded his whole bearing, and his cold eyes glanced uneasily from one person to another. "Will you explain the meaning of all this, Ferdinand?" he said, addressing himself to the one person in the room who had not yet spoken.
"I have explained," said Ferdy, half afraid and half defiantly; "they know everything."
"Concerning what?" asked Jerce, wincing again, but still self-controlled.
"Clarice and Anthony know the whole business," cried the young man, his voice loud and angry, as he strove to assert himself in the presence of the man he so greatly feared. "I have told them how you got the Purple Fern stamp, and how you tried to make me kill Uncle Henry. There! You can say what you like now."
Sir Daniel's nostrils dilated, and his eyes grew hard. "You are talking nonsense, I think," he said, perfectly calmly.
"Nonsense!" stormed Ferdy, quailing under those stern eyes. "It is not nonsense, and you know it. I have had quite enough of being bullied by you, Jerce"--he did not pay him the compliment of a respectful use of the great man's title. "You have been my master too long. It is my turn now. And who are you to dictate to me?--you, who lead a fast life, who squander money, who play fast and loose with women of the worst--"
"Stop!" cried Jerce, so loudly that the young man's voice died away. "Remember that your sister is present. My character is high enough to need no denial to the charges you bring against it. The King does not honour men such as you have described, with knighthoods."