"Goot, Strange," said he, smacking his lips audibly, "you are a vonder. You vill not be forgotten, my man," and he ripped open the seal and unwrapped the paper.
Rob could see that there was more paper than he had thought. But what made his heart bound with sudden hope was the bewildered expression upon the Duke's face.
"Is zis a joke, Strange?" he shouted, at last, flinging a sheaf of papers upon the floor. "Those," said he in a white heat of fury, "are accounts of charges for drugs. And zis," he added in a roar of anger, holding a scrap with the tips of his fingers, "has ze impertinence to say 'this is no ze goose that laid ze golden egg.'"
In the utter silence Rob laughed until the tears ran down his cheeks. And all the time Cumberland glared at Strange, and the latter stood with an utterly vacant expression, as though he had opened his mouth to say something and then clean forgotten what it was.
Suddenly the Duke turned with a scream of fury upon Rob.
"To-morrow," he cried, his face livid with passion, "ve vill see 'ow you laugh on the gibbet," and he stormed on Strange to go, turning his back upon them both.
But Rob did not move.
"On what charge am I condemned?" he asked.
The Duke switched round.
"Charge!" he cried, and then paused. "Strange, what is the charge?" he asked, stamping his foot.