He looked at her and laughed.
“I?” he said—“I?—’tis amusing—what power have I to save these Highland savages?”
She winced and turned to Jerome Caryl.
“You promised me, Mr. Caryl—”
Sir Perseus interrupted:
“Why, Delia, what are these Macdonalds to you?”
Jerome Caryl spared her an answer: “We will do what we can—” he said. “And they know the risk they run—even yet they may take the oaths.”
Delia glanced at him gratefully; she was pale and her brown eyes gleamed unnaturally bright.
“Good-night, sirs,” she said faintly.
The three men rose; her brother kissed her cheek; Jerome Caryl came to the door with her, but she looked past him to Mr. Wedderburn, who stared at her with a curious little smile; her face went even whiter; the door fell to behind her and they heard her light footsteps hurrying up the stairs. Jerome Caryl returned to the table.