“Oh, John Manning,” cried Perry excitedly, unable to bear it any longer, “how can you treat it so lightly? If you had tied and bound the poor wretches, it would have been different, but to drag them away and kill them in cold blood! It is horrible.”
“Well I am blessed!” exclaimed the old soldier, in a tone and with an emphasis that showed how he was startled.
“And I’ll never believe that my father meant it to be so.”
John Manning gave Cyril a dig with his elbow, and he winked one eye, but the act was invisible in the darkness.
“Why, it was him as ’vented the plan, sir. I only helped carry it out.”
“Oh!” ejaculated Perry.
“Hadn’t we got to escape, sir?”
“But in such a way!”
“Why, it was a splendid way, Master Perry. But I say I am ashamed of you to go private court-martialling your own father in that way, and find such fault with him for helping you to get off!”
“I’m not going to judge him,” said Perry. “I only say it was horrible.”