Feversham sneered and shrugged. “Natural you will not speak true. A traitor I 'ave observe' is always liar.”
Richard drew himself up; he seemed invested almost with a new dignity. “Your lordship is pleased to account me a traitor?” he inquired.
“A dam' traitor,” said his lordship, and at that moment the door opened, and a sergeant, with six men following him, stood at the salute upon the threshold. “A la bonne heure!” his lordship hailed them. “Sergean', you will arrest t'is rogue and t'is lady,”—he waved his hand from Richard to Ruth—“and you will take t'em to lock..up.”
The sergeant advanced towards Richard, who drew a step away from him. Ruth rose to her feet in agitation. Mr. Wilding interposed himself between her and the guard, his hand upon his sword.
“My lord,” he cried, “do they teach no better courtesy in France?”
Feversham scowled at him, smiling darkly. “I shall talk wit' you soon, sare,” said he, his words a threat.
“But, my lord...” began Richard. “I can make it very plain I am no traitor...”
“In t'e mornin',” said Feversham blandly, waving his hand, and the sergeant took Richard by the shoulder.
But Richard twisted from his grasp. “In the morning will be too late,” he cried. “I have it in my power to render you such a service as you little dream of.”
“Take 'im away,” said Feversham wearily.