“Here in the state house?” demanded Bosworth, and he blanched and twisted the buttons of his coat nervously.
“The governor of South Carolina, the supreme power of the state, charged with full responsibility, enjoying all the immunities, rights, and privileges unto him belonging.”
It was clear that Bosworth took no stock whatever in Griswold’s story; but Griswold’s pretended employment by the governor and his apparent knowledge of the governor’s affairs piqued his curiosity. If this was really the Griswold who had written a widely accepted work on admiralty and who was known to him by reputation as a brilliant lawyer of Virginia, the mystery was all the deeper. By taking the few steps necessary to reach the governor’s chambers he would prove the falsity of Griswold’s pretensions to special knowledge of the governor’s whereabouts and plans. He stepped to an inner office, came back with a packet of papers, and thrust a revolver into his pocket with so vain a show of it that Griswold laughed aloud.
“What! Do you still back your arguments with firearms arms down here? It’s a method that has gone out of fashion in Virginia!”
“If there’s a trick in this it will be the worse for you,” scowled Bosworth.
“And pray, remember, on your side, that you are to give those documents into the hands of the governor. Come along.”
They met the watchman in the corridor, and he saluted them and passed on. Bosworth strode eagerly forward in his anxiety to prick the bubble of Griswold’s pretensions.
Griswold threw open the door of the governor’s reception-room, and they blinked in the stronger light that poured in from the private office. There, in the governor’s chair by the broad official desk, sat Barbara Osborne reading a newspaper.
“Your Excellency,” said Griswold, bowing gravely and advancing, “I beg to present the attorney-general.”
“Barbara!”