“And now, sir,” said Uncle Luke, “you’ll excuse me if I ask you to go. This is not a time for cross-examination.”
“Eh? perhaps not,” said the officer sharply, as he gave the old man a resentful glance. Then to himself, “Well—it’s duty. He had no business to. I’ve no time for fine feelings.”
“At another time,” continued Uncle Luke, “if you will come to me, I dare say I can give you whatever information you require.”
“Oh, you may rest easy about that, sir,” said the officer, half laughingly, “don’t you be afraid. But I want a few words now with this other gentleman.”
“And I say no; you shall not torture him now,” cried Uncle Luke angrily. “He has suffered enough.”
“Don’t you interfere, sir, till you are called upon,” said the officer roughly. “Now, Mr George Vine, if you please.”
“I will not have it,” cried Uncle Luke; “it is an outrage.”
“Let him speak, brother,” said George Vine, with calm dignity. “Now, sir, go.”
“I will, sir. It’s a painful duty, but it is a duty. Now, sir, I came here with a properly signed warrant for the arrest of Henry Vine, for robbery and attempted murder.”
“Ah!” sighed Vine, with his brow wrinkling.