"For the present, fear nothing," he said, dryly. "For his own sake Cliffe will hold his tongue and leave London. And as to the future—I can get some message conveyed to him—by a man he won't disregard. Leave it to me."
"You can't write to him, William!" cried Kitty, passionately.
"Leave it to me," he repeated. "Then suppose you take the boy—and Margaret French—to Haggart till I can join you?"
"And your mother?" she said, timidly, coming to stand beside him and laying a hand on each shoulder.
"Leave that also to me."
"How she'll hate the sight of me," she said, under her breath. Then, with another tone of voice—"How long, William, do you give the government?"
"Six months, perhaps—perhaps less. I don't see how they can last beyond February."
"And then—we'll fight!" said Kitty, with a long breath, smoothing back the hair from his brow.
"Allow me, please, to command the forces! Well, now then, I must be off!" He tried to rise, but she still held him.
"Did you have any breakfast, William?"