Vernon bowed. “My lord,” he said, and his lip curled scornfully, “you have truly Roman virtue. I will fill out the warrant at once and place it at your disposal. You desire a guard from the Tower?” he added, as he went to his table and began to write.
“I do, and speedily,” replied the young nobleman, with a sort of savage eagerness.
“Your lordship shall be accommodated,” Vernon said, and touched the bell which summoned his clerk, and to him the secretary gave a few sharp orders. Then he turned to Lord Spencer.
“This young man will accompany you, my lord,” he said blandly, “and will give this warrant into the hands of the proper officer, who will go with you also, taking a sufficient guard to effect the capture.”
Spencer thanked him. “Your zeal is commendable, Mr. Secretary,” he said proudly, “’tis an hour of peril to the state, and believe me, sir, when I serve my country thus, I sacrifice my dearest feelings at its altar.”
Vernon bowed profoundly.
“My lord,” he responded, “you deserve the plaudits of a grateful people. The misfortunes of civil war and civil dissensions have divided many a house against itself in this kingdom.”
But after Spencer left, the secretary walked back into the room where a party of young men were playing shovel-board, and he told the story with a shrug.
“I thought of offering him thirty pieces of silver,” he remarked, “for his sister’s husband.”
“Zounds!” exclaimed one young gallant, “my Lady Clancarty will be a widow—’tis an ill wind that blows nobody good.”