"Well, I don't think it's not the way he should be."
"My master is most generous man. My friend, you shall see he shall know how kind you have been. Monsieur, my master, he is a prince!" murmured Jacques, eloquently, his fingers on the butler's cuff, and drew back to read in his countenance how it worked.
"It must not hoccur again, Mr. Jack, wile ere," replied the butler, with another grave shake of his head.
"Depend yourself on me," whispered Jacques again in his ear, while he squeezed the prudent hand of the butler affectionately. "But you must go way."
"I do depend on you, Mr. Jack, but I don't like it, mind—I don't like it, and I won't say nothink of it till I hear more from you."
So the butler withdrew, and the danger disappeared.
"You will please to remember, sir," said Varbarriere, as they approached the house, "that this is of the nature of a military movement—a surprise; there must be no sound—no alarm."
"Quite so," whispered old Lennox, with white lips. He was clutching something nervously under the wide sleeve of his loose drab overcoat. He stopped under the shadow of a noble clump of trees about fifty steps away from the glass door they were approaching.
"I—I almost wish, sir—I'll go back—I don't think I can go on, sir."
Varbarriere looked at his companion with an unconscious sneer, but said nothing.