"Do you happen to know whether he went up to the Hall?" asked Clive.
"Sir Willoughby's? I met him several times walking in that neighborhood, but I don't think he went to the Hall. He did not appear to know Sir Willoughby.--And yet, sir, I remember now that I heard Diggle and Grinsell talking about the squire the night I first saw them together at the Four Alls."
"And you were with this--Diggle, in London, Mr. Burke?"
"Yes, sir."
Desmond began to feel uncomfortable. Clive had evidently not recognized him before, and he was hoping that the unfortunate incident in Billiter Street would not be recalled. Clive's next words made him wish to sink into the floor.
"Do you remember, Mr. Burke, in London, throwing yourself in the way of a gentleman that was in pursuit of your friend Mr. Diggle, and bringing him to the ground?"
"Yes, sir, I did, and I am sorry for it."
Desmond did not like the grim tone of Clive's voice; he wished he would address him as "my lad" instead of "Mr. Burke."
"That was a bad start, let me say, Mr. Burke--an uncommonly bad start."
"Oh come, Mr. Clive!" broke in Mr. Merriman, "say no more about that. The boy was in bad company: 'twas not his fault. In truth, 'twas my own fault: I am impetuous; the sight of that scoundrel was too much for me.