“What do they want?” cried Waller sharply, as he caught his companion by the wrist.
“They are coming to search the house, sir.”
“What?” shouted Waller hoarsely.
“Coming to hunt for spies, sir.”
Waller drew a deep breath as if pulling himself together to face the desperate position, and his companion looked at him wonderingly as he called out, in a voice full of assumed bravado:
“Oh, are they! I will come down to see about that!”
“Yes, sir, do, please. Martha’s in such a way, and she’s quarrelling with her brother awful.”
“Go on down!” cried Waller, and he gave the table a heavy thump with his hammer before listening to the girl’s descending steps, and breathing hard as if he had been running the while.
As the girl’s steps died out he faced round to look in the fugitive’s eyes. There was a faint smile on the lad’s lips as he caught Waller’s hand and gripped it fast.
“Thank you,” he said very calmly. “It’s all over, Waller—brother Waller. There, I am going to meet it like a man.”