“Very well,” said Holles, and turned to go. The key was, he observed, on the outside of the door. He stooped and withdrew it from the lock. “Your grace would perhaps prefer the key on the inside,” he said, with an odious smirk, and, whilst his grace impatiently shrugged his indifference, Holles made the transference.
Having made it, he closed the door swiftly, and he had quietly turned the key in the lock, withdrawn and pocketed it before his grace recovered from his surprise at the eccentricity of his behaviour.
“What’s this?” he demanded sharply, taking a step towards the Colonel, and from Nan there came a faint cry—a sob scarcely more than to announce the reaction caused by sudden understanding and the revival of her hopes from the despair into which she had fallen.
Holles, his shoulders to the door, showed a face that was now grim and set. He cast from him again the hat and cloak which he had been holding.
“It is, your grace, that I desire a word in private with you, safe from the inconvenient intrusion of your lackeys.”
The Duke drew himself up, very stiff and stern, not a little intrigued as you conceive by all this; but quite master of himself. Fear, as I think I have said, was an emotion utterly unknown to him. Had he but been capable of the same self-mastery in other directions he might have been the greatest man in England. He made now no outcry, put no idle questions that must derogate from the dignity with which he felt it incumbent to invest himself.
“Proceed, sir,” he said coldly. “Let us have the explanation of this insolence, that so we may make an end of it.”
“That is soon afforded.” Holles, too, spoke quietly. “This lady, your grace, is a friend of mine, an ... an old friend. I did not know it until ... until I had conveyed her hither. Upon discovering it, I would have escorted her hence again, and I was about to do so when your grace arrived. I have now to ask you to pledge me your word of honour that you will do nothing to prevent our peaceful departure—that you will offer no hindrance either in your own person or in that of your servants.”
For a long moment, Buckingham stood considering him without moving from the spot where he stood, midway between Holles and the girl, his shoulder to the latter. Beyond a heightening of the colour about his eyes and cheekbones, he gave no sign of emotion. He even smiled, though not quite pleasantly.