“And I will give your ladyship a word of future advice,” I continued with a sneer. “Open windows consort ill with conspiracy!”
“I trust, sir, that you do not include me in that category,” the colonel broke in suddenly, “for I think that you have no evidence to support such an assertion.”
“No evidence at all,” the stout man cried, recovering somewhat from his first shock of surprise. Though if ever conscious guilt looked out of a man’s eyes, it was in his, and his twitching lip belied his air of assurance. “Not a shadow of it!” he continued, growing bolder at the sound of his own voice. “And if you were listening, captain, you heard what I was saying. As a magistrate of this country it is my duty—hum!—strictly in the interests of government to acquaint myself with the opinions of the most influential families. Had you delayed your appearance a moment longer, you would have heard the measures I was about to take to—hum!—counteract the scheme of this misguided lady!”
“As to that,” I replied—and I could afford to forgive him his cowardice—for the man was playing into my hands, “I am willing to take your word for it, Mr.——?”
“Wetherell,” he answered—“Nicholas Wetherell, at your service. I am well known, sir! I believe that I can honestly say,” he added pompously, “that I am a man of some weight in the city of Exeter.”
I looked him steadily in the face.
“I do not doubt it,” I answered quietly.
The young baronet gave a short laugh and the colonel’s mouth writhed itself into a grim smile. Nay, for a moment even I thought that my lady’s face relaxed somewhat; but, meeting my eyes, she stiffened again into her old mask of scorn.
“Yet I do not know, Mr. Wetherell,” I continued dryly, “that the government would entirely approve of your method of obtaining information.”
“There is no more loyal subject, sir, in England than I!” he cried hastily.