As he finished he smiled, and, though I could not tell why, I hated him for it.
“As many as you wish,” I answered, “but I am pressed for time now. Will not another occasion do? I----”
“Some other time might serve,” he interrupted, “but I am on the King’s business, and you know that ever presses us men of the sword.”
Not very graciously I led the way to my former apartment, from which I had been absent so long. Wearily I sat down, pointing to another chair, opposite, for my visitor. He took it, doubled the riding whip in his hands, and, with a slight bow to me, said:
“I have been waiting for your return, Captain Amherst,” and he seemed to hesitate over the name. “I have waited ever since you sailed against St. Johns.”
“Then you had a wearisome delay,” I responded, little heeding my own words, for I was in haste to be away. “One, I fear, not much to your profit or pleasure.”
“I did not look for profit,” was his reply. Then he spoke slowly, and with a mocking, sneering tone. “But it was pleasant enough, tarrying here--with Lucille!”
I sprang to my feet and half drew my sword, for there was more than insult in his words; there was a threat.
“Lucille!” I cried, leaning forward and peering into his handsome, sneering face.
“Aye, Lucille,” he answered coolly, and he never glanced at me, but played with the buckle of his sword belt.