A quick, excited murmur followed. Then the heavy voice was heard once more.
“I know we are in his house. I am perfectly aware of it. But that does not deprive me of the right to protect myself from impudence.”
Abdallah’s voice was then heard; but it was pitched so low that Ezra could not catch the words. After a moment the heavy voice came again.
“Of course, sir, that puts a different face upon the matter. But you should have warned us to moderate our tones. Remember, I am Major Buckstone of His Majesty’s Artillery, and I permit no man to hector me.”
“Hush-h-h-h!” came another voice. And then there was a silence.
“It seems that Major Buckstone is a person quite ready and competent to regulate his own affairs,” smiled the boy. Then his brows puckered thoughtfully as he continued: “And the fact that he is of His Majesty’s Artillery makes him a gentleman of whom I should take more than ordinary notice.”
On the whole, as he thought the situation over, all the persons concerned were of great interest to him and to the cause of the colonies. Here was a stranger, an Oriental, who received mysterious communications from equally mysterious horsemen. And here, also, were British officers making his house a place of resort and carrying on conversations which would not allow of being overheard.
“Decidedly,” said Ezra, “it has an interesting look. And I am quite pleased that I chanced to come this way and overtake Master Scarlett as I did.”
His thoughts had run this far when once again the mighty voice of Major Buckstone was heard.
“But, sir,” it cried, “I disagree with you. I utterly disagree with you. You may have your own ways of doing these things. If so, you are perfectly welcome to them. But I am a soldier, sir; an officer in His Majesty’s Artillery, and I am accustomed to do things in my own way.”