And I, the silent watcher without, asked myself how he could longer hesitate. Had I been in the man’s place, had my lady so looked and spoken to me—pshaw! what foolishness was this! The woman had beaten me like a hound; and I held her life and the lives of the men before me in the hollow of my hand! And I had heard and seen enough of the latter to sum up, in my own mind at least, their characters. God help my lady’s scheme if she depended on such men as these for its success!
The colonel finished reading; and with a totally impassive face handed the paper in silence to the stout man beside him.
The latter perused it with sundry short ejaculations; then:
“Hum!” he said at last. “These are well-known names, madam.”
“That being so,” my lady replied quickly, “and my cousin,” she added, indicating the young man in grey—“having already signed, it only remains for you, gentlemen, to do likewise!”
“No, no, no,” the stout man replied, rising hastily to his feet. “Let there be no waiting, madam! I will put no pen to paper! What!” he added hastily, meeting my lady’s look of wondering contempt, “would you have me hazard my life into the keeping of any one who would sell it, for aught I know, upon the first opportunity?”
“I shall keep the paper, sir,” my lady answered coldly.
“That may be, madam, that may be,” he continued, working himself into a rage. “And it may suit these gentlemen,” he added, tapping the paper in his hand, “but it is not so agreeable to me. And besides that, I am not sure that my conscience will suffer me to aid you.”
“Your conscience!” my lady cried with infinite scorn.
“Aye, madam, my conscience,” he went on, no whit taken aback; “for whether you succeed or fail, shall I be privy to that which will again bring bloodshed with its attendant misery upon the people of this country?”