At another time his naturally keen perception would have given him some indication as to the officer’s direction; but truth to tell, George had, for the last few moments, ceased following the speaker very closely.
The window through which he was gazing out upon the storm was bowed, and very large. It was hung with heavy curtains that were only partly drawn; and during the latter portion of Major Hyde’s remarks, George detected something like a movement behind these which had taken his attention.
“There is some one there,” flashed through the young man’s mind. “Some one who is listening.” However, now that he was sure of the state of affairs, his self-possession returned; he gave his attention to the speaker, all the time watching the curtain with the tail of his eye.
Major Hyde was frowning a little, but at the same time he kept a smile playing about his lips.
“I will make my meaning clear,” said he. “Some time ago I had a man servant who pleased me very much. He had a rare judgment in the matters that came within his province, and a close tongue. But—now, mark this—I found after some time that the close tongue did not always operate in my favor. He had a habit of receiving messages and then retailing to me those parts of them that he considered I should hear.”
“He was not lacking in presumption, along with his other qualities,” said George.
“I am inclined to agree with you,” remarked Major Hyde, drily. “He should have given me a choice at least, as to what parts I considered of no consequence.”
“Very impudent, ’pon my word,” observed Henderson.
“I am of the same opinion,” spoke George Prentiss. “But,” and he looked at Major Hyde composedly, “I am still rather at loss. Just what is your meaning? Somehow all this seems to apply to me. If I am wrong in this I beg of you to say so.”
“You are not wrong,” said Major Hyde.