"Now, look here," he said, firmly. "I'm going to forget that you're my employer at a generous salary, and remember only that I'm your friend. What does all this mean? You've been hurt somehow, too. Just make a clean breast of it, and let's see what can be done."
Beaumanoir shook his head sadly.
"I can't make a clean breast of it," he began; then pulled up short and went on. "At least, I can't tell you causes, but I'll tell you effects. My life has been attempted twice certainly, possibly three times, since noon yesterday."
"How?" said Alec with Scotch brevity.
"A lame gardener was set upon at Prior's Tarrant, and released on his assailants finding that they had mistaken him for me. And at night they got on the roof and tried to suffocate me by letting a brazier of charcoal down into the grate and plugging the chimney. Luckily I awoke, and managed to crawl out of the room in time."
"But surely you raised an alarm and caught the fellows? They couldn't get off the roof and escape so quickly as that," exclaimed Alec, half incredulous.
Again the Duke shook his head.
"I raised no alarm, and they did get away, after pulling up the brazier and leaving no trace," he replied. "There are reasons, Alec, why I could not have appeared against them had they been caught—the same reasons why I can't confide more fully in you."
"You must have done something very bad—murder at least," said Forsyth, gravely.
"On the contrary, I have done nothing at all," Beaumanoir retorted. "It is for not doing something that I am being persecuted."