“So far as I know there isn’t,” I said.
“Anyhow it wasn’t that which brought me to Belfast. The fact is, Excellency, I couldn’t very well stay at home. You remember,”—here his voice sunk to a whisper—“what I told you about the Pringles.”
“Your bank account?”
“No. Not that. The girl, I mean. Tottie Pringle.”
“Oh yes, I remember.”
“Well, old Pringle began to get offensive. He seemed to think that I ought to—you know.”
“Marry her? I expect you ought.”
“Excellency?” said Godfrey in genuine horror and amazement.
“By the way,” said Bland, “I forgot to mention that I promised the court martial to get your nephew out of Belfast before to-morrow morning. I hope you don’t mind. They wouldn’t let him go on any other condition.”
“Quite right,” I said. “Godfrey shall start to-night.”