“Mr. Maxwell’s!” said the other, startled. “Is he in this affair too?”
“Yes; have you not heard? He came from Great Keynes this morning. Mr. Lackington sent for him.”
Mr. Buxton’s face grew dark.
“Ah yes, I see—a pretty revenge.”
The magistrate was on the point of asking an explanation, for he felt on the best of terms again now with his prisoner, when there were footsteps outside and voices; and there stood four constables, with Nichol, Hubert Maxwell and Lackington in furious debate coming up the path behind.
They looked up suddenly, and saw the door open and the magistrate and his prisoner standing in the opening. The four constables stood waiting for further orders while their three chiefs came up.
“Now, now, now!” said Mr. Graves peevishly, “what is all this?”
“We have come to search this house, sir,” said Nichol cheerfully.
“See here, sir,” said Hubert, “have you given orders for this?”
“Enough, enough,” said Lackington coolly. “Search, men.”