But by my faith the latter was little capable of explaining anything. His jaw had fallen, he stared at me in speechless surprise. Even the lieutenant’s lean countenance had taken a more melancholy cast.
“Let that be my task general,” I said, advancing to the table, “and first let me exonerate these gentlemen from all blame. It is a simple story, and can soon be told. The Earl of Cleeve is, as I have said, beyond pursuit. For the rest, these clothes I wear should be sufficient explanation.”
He bent forward and gazed fixedly at me. “And how comes it,” he said at length, “that you are in this house?”
“I was in charge here,” I answered simply.
His glance wandered from me to my lady, and I saw a sudden light of understanding leap into his eyes.
“Ah!” he said briefly, and leaned back in his chair.
After a moment’s pause, in which I stole a glance at my lady, to see that her eyes were fixed upon the general with a dawning horror in their depths, the latter again addressed me.
“So you, a soldier, in time of war betrayed your trust,” he said slowly, “and assisted his Grace to escape, knowing him to be the Earl of Cleeve!”
“For the friendship that I bear to him—yes!”
“You were aware he was proscribed—of the penalty attached to your offence? You did this—knowingly?”