“Yes,” said he, “and there's that scoundrel Reginald.”
“Reginald!” cried Lady Dudleigh, in a stern voice. “Why do you mention him?”
“Oh, he's one of the same gang,” cried Sir Lionel. “He's playing their game. He is siding against his father, as he always did, and with his brother's murderers. He shall not escape. I will avenge Leon's death on all of you; and as for him, he shall suffer!”
It was with a strong effort that Lady Dudleigh restrained herself. But she succeeded in doing so, and said, simply, as before,
“How?”
“Arrest him!” cried Sir Lionel. “Arrest him too. He is guilty of perjury; and if he doesn't hang for it, he'll go back again to Botany Bay with that scoundrel with whom he sides against me—his own father—and against his brother.”
“Are there any more?” asked Lady Dudleigh, as Sir Lionel ended.
“More! Yes,” he said.
“Who?”
“You!” shouted Sir Lionel, with a voice of indescribable hate and ferocity. He turned as he spoke, and stared at her. His wild eyes, however, met the calm, cold, steady glance of those of his “keeper,” and they fell before it. He seized the whip and began to lash the horses, crying as he did so, “You! yes, you! you! most of all!”