"Has that fellow renewed his old admiration of you?" he went on in the same tone.
"Do not make me desire his old protection," said Fleda, her gentle face roused to a flush of displeasure.
"Protection!" said Charlton coming in,--"who wants protection? here it is--protection from what? my old friend Lewis? what the deuce does this lady want of protection, Mr. Thorn?"
It was plain enough that Fleda wanted it, from the way she was drooping upon his arm.
"You may ask the lady herself," said Thorn, in the same tone he had before used,--"I have not the honour to be her spokesman."
"She don't need one," said Charlton,--"I addressed myself to you--speak for yourself, man."
"I am not sure that it would be her pleasure I should," said Thorn. "Shall I tell this gentleman, Miss Ringgan, who needs protection, and from what?--"
Fleda raised her head, and putting her hand on his arm looked a concentration of entreaty--lips were sealed.
"Will you give me," said he gently taking the hand in his own, "your sign manual for Capt. Rossitur's security? It is not too late.--Ask it of her, sir!"
"What does this mean?" said Charlton looking from his cousin to his friend.