“Hah!”
A long sigh of relief.
“And Mr Leslie? What does he say?”
“I don’t know. He has not been here since he left with me yesterday.”
“And he calls himself our friend!” cried Louise, looking up with flushing face. “Uncle, why does he not try to save Harry instead of joining the cowardly pack who are hunting him down?”
“Come, I like that!” cried Uncle Luke. “I’d rather see you in a passion than down as you were last night.”
“I—I cannot help it, uncle; I can think of only one thing—Harry.”
“And Mr Leslie, and accuse him of hunting Harry down.”
“Well, did he not do so? Did he not come with that dreadful man?”
“To try and save you from the French scoundrel with whom he thought you had eloped.”