Harry was silent a moment and then blurted out: "They came from Colonel
Boyce's lodging."
My lord laughed.
"Sure, 'tis an honour to know you, sir," says O'Connor, and bowed to
Harry.
"Damned filial, indeed," my lord chuckled.
O'Connor turned upon him. "They have you beat easily, my lord," he said fiercely. "Damned courageous indeed." But my lord only nodded at him. "What, we be six—to count Mr. Boyce. Sure, we could hold the house against the devil's christening."
There came in briskly a tall fellow crying: "Come, Sale, it's full time,
I believe."
My Lord Sale got on his feet, "Stap me, sir, I believe not," he drawled. "We must stay at home. They have smoked us. Here's a gracious youth come to tell us that his Whiggish friends beset the house."
The Pretender frowned and seemed slow to understand. Harry looked him over. He was certainly a fine figure of a man, and bore himself gallantly enough. His face was darkly handsome in a melancholy fashion, not unlike the youth of his uncle, Charles II. He turned upon Harry. "What is all this, sir?"
"Oh, sir, it's that old rogue Noll Boyce," my lord put in. "And here's his son betraying the father."
"Faith, my lord, I'll remind you of that," O'Connor said. "Sir, the gentleman is an honest gentleman."