“Yes,” said the wretched man; and he sank into the nearest chair, looking straight before him into vacancy.
“Well, sir,” said the officer sharply, “I’m glad you know the consequences.” Then turning sharply on Uncle Luke, who stood biting his lips in an excited manner, “Perhaps you’ll come into the next room with me, sir. I should like a few words with you.”
Uncle Luke scowled at him, as he led the way into the drawing-room, and shut the door angrily.
“Now, sir,” he began fiercely, “let me—”
“Hold hard, old gentleman!” said the officer; “don’t be so excitable. I want a few words, and then, for goodness’ sake, give me a glass of wine and a biscuit. I’ve touched nothing since I came here last night.”
“Ah!” ejaculated Uncle Luke, furiously; but the man went on.
“Of course it’s a serious thing striking an officer; let alone the pain, there’s the degradation, for people know of it. I’m sore at losing my prisoner, and if he had not held me I should have had the young fellow safe, and that horrible accident wouldn’t have happened.”
“And now what are you going to do?” snarled Uncle Luke, “drag him off to gaol?”
“Going to act like a man, sir. Think I’m such a brute? Poor old fellow, I felt quite cut, hard as I am, and I’d have asked him to shake hands over it, only he couldn’t have taken it kindly from me. You seem a man of the world, sir. He’s one of those dreamy sort of naturalist fellows. Tell him from me I’d have given anything sooner than all this should have happened. It was my duty to see him about his resistance to the law. But, poor old fellow, he was doing his natural duty in defence of his boy, just as I felt that I was doing mine.”
Uncle Luke did not speak but stood holding out his hand. The officer gripped it eagerly, and they two stood gazing in each other’s faces for a few moments.