“Not me, sir.”
“Don’t look that way, but tell me what you think. Isn’t old Ness likely to know?”
“Very likely, sir; but if he did know he wouldn’t tell.”
“Then you think he is mixed up with the smuggling gang?”
“That’s so, sir.”
“Then I’ll make him tell me,” said Aleck, between his teeth.
“Do, sir, for I should like us to find the young gen’leman, he being an officer and me an old Navy man. Make old Ness tell yer. You are good friends with him, arn’t yer?”
“Yes, of course,” said Aleck. “No, of course not,” he cried, angrily, for like a flash came the recollection of the scene that morning, when the gardener had protested against being suspected of having any dealings with such outlawed men. “Oh, Tom, what an unlucky fellow I am!”
“Feel like that, sir?”
“Yes.”