“Be firm,” she whispered; “you will betray yourself.”
“Well,” he replied bitterly, “why not? Better so than being the slave of that wretched man. I feel that I am worse than he. I do know better, he does not.”
Recalling that he was in the presence of a gentleman, Archy raised his hat, advanced and said, apologetically, who and what they were. That his was a very unpleasant duty, but that as a gentleman, Sir Risdon would see that the king’s officers had no alternative but to carry out their duty.
“Of course not, sir,” said Sir Risdon. “I understand, sir, you wish to search. Very well, I shall raise no objection. Proceed.”
“Shall we close the men all round the house?” said the master, coming up after halting the men.
“Wait a minute,” replied Archy. “Really, I hardly think it is necessary for us to commit so serious an act of rudeness towards a gentleman. Perhaps Sir Risdon Graeme will be good enough to assure me.”
“No, sir,” said the baronet sternly; “I shall make no obstacle. You have your duty to do; pray proceed.”
The midshipman hesitated, and looked from one to the other, seeing Lady Graeme standing pale, handsome, and statuesque by her husband’s side, while on the other side was Celia, holding her father’s hand, and resting her forehead against his arm.
“I won’t do it, I can’t,” thought Archy. “Why didn’t he say out at once he had no knowledge of the affair, and send us about our business?”
At that moment, he felt his sleeve plucked, and turning angrily round, he saw the elderly master, who had been standing hat in hand, greatly impressed by Lady Graeme’s dignity.