“Keep back all of you,” he said. “Let him go!”
Courthorne was outside by this time, and only those who reached the door before Dane closed it heard a faint beat of hoofs as somebody rode quietly away beneath the bluff, while as the rest clustered together, wondering, a minute or two later, Corporal Payne, flecked with spume and covered with dust came in. He raised his hand in salutation to Colonel Barrington, who sat very grim in face in his chair at the head of the table.
“I’m sorry, sir, but it’s my duty to apprehend Lance Courthorne,” he said.
“You have a warrant?” asked Barrington.
“Yes, sir,” said the corporal.
There was intense silence for a moment. Then the Colonel’s voice broke through it very quietly.
“He is not here,” he said.
Payne made a little deprecatory gesture. “We knew he came here. It is my duty to warn you that proceedings will be taken against any one concealing or harbouring him.”
Barrington rose up very stiffly, with a little grey tinge in his face, but words seemed to fail him, and Dane laid his hand on the corporal’s shoulder.
“Then,” he said grimly, “don’t exceed it. If you believe he’s here, we will give you every opportunity of finding him.”