"And lay down a bit o' marl along the sparrowgrass."
Mr. Minnidick moved to carry out this last command.
"Lock her in—d'yer hear? Lock her in, and lose the key," whispered Mr. Bush, as Mr. Minnidick was moving off.
Mr. Minnidick munched violently and answered naught, but as he passed the mushroom-house he turned the key on the Duchess, who now believed that her last hour was indeed approaching. Now, Mr. Bush at all times found it difficult to moderate his voice, and even his whisper as a rule was powerful and sonorous. Consequently, the Duke heard what he said, and became even more violently enraged than before.
"Lock her in, d'you say, you villainous ruffian!" he exclaimed. "So you've trapped some other wretched creature into your clutches, have you? You can't even stand by your partner in guilt or stick to one criminal at a time! I daresay," his Grace added, turning sharply on Mr. Rodney—"I daresay that house is positively swarming with degraded females at this very moment."
And he pointed up at the windows of the Farm, from one of which the heads of Mrs. Verulam and Chloe abruptly disappeared.
"Swarming!" said Mr. Rodney deprecatingly. "Oh, Duke, I scarcely think—the house, indeed, hardly appears to—to swarm. You may be in—in error. Take time—do pray take a little time to—to learn more of——"
"Rodney, I am not addressing myself to you!" said his Grace, telling a fairly obvious lie. "I have nothing to say to you. My business is with this gentleman. Stop digging this moment, sir, or I shall not wait for you to fight. I shall kill you where you are gardening without further parley! Stop digging!"
At this juncture Mr. Minnidick calmly approached with the "bit o' marl."