“I am exceedingly sorry,” he said, “for having brought this annoyance on you, Lady Maxwell; but these men are so sharp that they see nothing but guilt everywhere. I do not know yet what my crime is. But that can wait. Sir Nicholas, we should have parted anyhow in half an hour. We shall only say good-bye here, instead of at the door.”
The magistrate smiled again as before; and half put up his hand to hide it.
“I beg your pardon, Mr. Chapman; but you need not part from Sir Nicholas yet. I fear, Sir Nicholas, that I shall have to trouble you to come with us.”
Lady Maxwell drew a quick hissing breath; her sister got up swiftly and went to her, as she sat down in Sir Nicholas’ chair, still holding the old man’s hand.
Sir Nicholas turned to his guest; and his voice broke again and again as he spoke.
“Mr. Stewart,” he said, “I am sorry that any guest of mine should be subject to these insults. However, I am glad that I shall have the pleasure of your company after all. I suppose we ride to East Grinsted,” he added harshly to the magistrate, who bowed to him.—“Then may I have my servant, sir?”
“Presently,” said Mr. Frankland, and then turned to Anthony, who had been staring wild-eyed at the scene, “Now who is this?”
A man answered from the rank.
“That is Master Anthony Norris, sir.”
“Ah! and who is Master Anthony Norris? A Papist, too?”