In the meanwhile Coulthurst sat at his table looking hard at Esmond.
"I hope," he said grimly, "that you are now satisfied."
Esmond met his gaze without embarrassment. "I'm not sure I quite catch your meaning, sir."
"In that case," said Coulthurst, "it is a trifle difficult to understand how you came to hold a commission in a service in which one understands intelligence is necessary. I have carried out the law, but I don't mind admitting that I do not appreciate being made use of in this fashion. It is very evident you do not like Ingleby."
Esmond, who made no disclaimer, appeared to reflect for a moment or two.
"Well," he said, "you have, perhaps, some ground for feeling aggrieved, sir; but I can't help thinking that I have done nothing that was unnecessary."
"I am not blaming you for—doing your duty."
"I scarcely think you would be warranted in considering me very much at fault for going a little beyond it. I admit that it would please me to see Ingleby driven out of the valley. The fellow's presumption is almost insufferable."
Coulthurst glanced at him sharply, and his face grew a trifle red. "Ingleby is very young in comparison with myself, but you were once good enough to allude to him as a friend of mine, and you certainly met him at my house as my guest. If there was any particular meaning in your speech, it would be better to come straight to the point. I don't like hints."
"I can only offer you my excuses for momentary bad memory, sir. Absurd as it may seem to you, I'm far from sure that Ingleby is likely to be content with the status mentioned. A very little reflection should make the warning clear. In the meanwhile I have a couple of troopers waiting for me."