“I should feel still more the thing if I had a hand free,” replied Ravenscar grimly.
“Don’t you go a-letting of him loose, Miss Deb!” Silas warned her. “We’ll keep them bunches of fives of his fast behind his back, or you’ll be having a mill in the cellar, which your aunt won’t like. Here you are, sir!”
Mr Ravenscar drank the wine which was being held to his lips, and once more looked Miss Grantham over. “Well?” he said. “What now, ma’am?”
“You’d best make haste, Miss Deb,” said Wantage. “I’ll have to get back to the front-door, or we shall have I-dunno-who walking into the house.”
“I don’t need you, Silas,” Deborah replied. “You may go now, and leave me to tell Mr Ravenscar what I mean to do.”
Silas looked a little doubtful, but when his mistress assured him that she had no intention of releasing Mr Ravenscar from his bonds, he consented to withdraw, reminding her, however, to be sure to lock the door securely when she left the cellar.
“Will you have some more wine, sir?” asked Deborah, apparently conscious of her duties as his hostess.
“No,” said Ravenscar baldly.
“You are not very polite!” she said.
“I do not feel very polite. If you cam to untie my ankles, however, I will engage to offer you my chair.”