“You mistake, my dear. I said that I would wait to claim you. No more. Mr and Miss Merriot desire no interference or aid in their schemes. Accept my thanks for the compliment.”
“Tare an’ ’ouns, I believe you’re disappointed you’d no share in it!” Robin exclaimed.
“Well, why not?” said Sir Anthony coolly.
“My dear sir, you’re not an adventurer. But egad, if I’d guessed this I’d have taken you along. Oh, but conceive Sir Anthony Fanshawe masked upon the high road!”
The stern look abated somewhat. “My good boy, must you always harp upon my respectability? I confess I’m hurt. I was always accounted a useful man in a fight.” He took Prudence’s hand. “I wish I could make you understand that I desire nothing better than to walk the maze at your side. You can’t credit it?”
“Yes, sir, but can you not understand that I would do my uttermost to keep you free of the dangers that surround us? You shall not be angry with me for that.”
“Give me your word that this shall be the last scrape you enter into without my knowledge.”
There was a serious look for this. Robin spoke from the window. “He has the right, I believe, Prue. If he aspires to wed you he must needs share your fortunes.”
“That,” said Sir Anthony, “is the only sensible thing I have heard you say so far, young man. Come Prue!”
“If I must, sir,” she said reluctantly. “But — ” she paused. “Oh, it’s a man’s reasoning, and I must still play the man. I promise, Tony.”