“Aye, sir,” said Sir Edward, blinking his weak eyes. “Tell us that.”
Richard hesitated again, and looked at Blake. Blake, who by now had come to realize that his friend's affairs were not mended by his interruptions, moodily shrugged his shoulders, scowling.
“Come, sir,” said Colonel Luttrell, engagingly, “answer the question.”
“Aye,” roared Albemarle; “let your invention have free rein.”
Again poor Richard sought refuge in the truth. “We—Sir Rowland here and I—had reason to suspect that he was awaiting such a letter.”
“Tell us your reasons, sir, if we are to credit you,” said the Duke, and it was plain he mocked the prisoner. It was, moreover, a request that staggered Richard. Still, he sought to find a reason that should sound plausible.
“We inferred it from certain remarks that Mr. Wilding let fall in our presence.”
“Tell us the remarks, sir,” the Duke insisted.
“Indeed, I do not call his precise words to mind, Your Grace. But they were such that we suspicioned him.”
“And you would have me believe that hearing words which awoke in you such grave suspicions, you kept your suspicions and straightway forgot the words. You're but an indifferent liar.”