“There’s no one but us understands English, sir,” the valet reminded him.
“Please oblige me, all the same,” Traherne insisted.
The man did as he was asked. “Now, sir!” he said, almost standing at attention at the writing-table. And Crespin saw it, and smiled.
“I dare say you can guess what we want with you,” Traherne began.
“I’m no ’and at guessin’, sir,” Watkins said densely. “I’d rather you’d put it plain.”
“Well,” the doctor rejoined, “you know we’ve fallen into the hands of bloodthirsty savages? You know what is proposed for to-morrow?”
“I’ve ’eard as your numbers is up,” the cockney said with insolent suavity.
“You surely don’t intend to stand by and see us murdered?” Traherne looked at him hard as he spoke. “Three of your own people, and one of them a lady?”
“My own people, is it?” Watkins said with a mean, sleek smile. “And a lady—!”
But Dr. Traherne kept his temper. “A woman then, Watkins,” he amended quietly.