"And my Uncle Bassett?" he cried abruptly. "What is he doing all this while?"
Marjorie said that Mr. Bassett had been most active on his behalf with the lawyers, but, for the present, was gone back again to his estates. Mr. Thomas snorted impatiently.
"Yes, he is gone back again," he cried, "and he leaves me to rot here!
He thinks that I can bear it for ever, it seems!"
"Mr. Bassett has done his utmost, sir," said Marjorie. "He exposed himself here daily."
"Yes, with twenty fellows to guard him, I suppose. I know my Uncle
Bassett's ways…. Tell me, if you please, how matters stand."
Marjorie explained again. There was nothing in the world to be done until the order came for his trial—or, rather, everything had been done already. His lawyers were to rely exactly on the defence that had been spoken of just now; it was to be shown that the prisoner had harboured no priests; and the witnesses had already been spoken with—men from Norbury and Padley, who would swear that to their certain knowledge no priest had been received by Mr. FitzHerbert at least during the previous year or eighteen months. There was, therefore, no kind of reason why Mr. Bassett or Mr. John FitzHerbert should remain any longer in Derby. Mr. John had been there, but had gone again, under advice from the lawyers; but he was in constant communication with Mr. Biddell, who had all the papers ready and the names of the witnesses, and had made more than one application already for the trial to come on.
"And why has neither my father nor my Uncle Bassett come to see me?" snapped the man.
"They have tried again and again, sir," said Marjorie. "But permission was refused. They will no doubt try again, now that Mrs. FitzHerbert has been admitted."
He paced up and down again for a few steps without speaking. Then again he turned on her, and she could see his face working uncontrolledly.
"And they will enjoy the estates, they think, while I rot here!"