He drew a chair to the table, scattering the papers from the latter with a sweep of his hand.
“Proceed, sir,” he continued brusquely. “You succeeded in arresting this gentleman?”
“He should be in Exeter to-night, my lord,” I answered; “and——”
“One moment, captain,” he interrupted. “Pardon me my forgetfulness. You have had a long ride and a dusty one. Let us have wine, Nell, for talking is cursedly thirsty work, and of business, thirstier!”
“Not for me, my lord,” I said hastily; “my errand——”
“Can wait,” he answered. “Tush, man! You will talk all the readier. I have wine here that would unloose any tongue.” And he threw himself back in his chair.
I cursed him inwardly for the delay, for at this moment I distinctly caught the faint clatter of horses’ hoofs in the street below. I was obliged to wait, however, until the woman had brought a bottle and glasses from a carved oaken cabinet and placed them upon the table before him. My lord filled the glasses with a slightly trembling hand.
“Ha!” he said, “this is wine of the best, captain. None of your light French wines, this! I bought it of Rochester himself. And damn me! I should know a good wine when I see one. None better.”
I looked at the face of the man before me, and in my own mind I fully coincided with his opinion.
“I drink to the success of your mission, sir,” he continued.