A servant in livery at this moment approached him. “Beg parding, sir. Two gentlemen wants to speak to you a moment in the library.”
Sir Digby turned pale.
“I’d come, sir,” whispered the servant; “there will be a scene else.”
Sir Digby followed him out.
“Sorry we are, sir, to disturb yer ’onor; but we has a warrant for your ’rrest, and the carriage is awaitin’ at the door.”
“At whose instance?”
“Richards of the firm of Griffith, Keane, and Co.”
Sir Digby muttered an oath. He staggered and almost fell.
D’Orsay, a quarter of an hour after this, informed the guests that Sir Digby Auld had been taken suddenly ill, but that they were to continue to enjoy themselves all the same.
Meanwhile the prisoner was being rapidly whirled away to the Fleet.