“We will consult together upon the matter and let you know our decision presently,” said Stratford, after waiting in vain for an answer. “If you will not enter, the servants shall spread carpets at the gate for you.”
The official expressed his gratitude for the courtesy, and the little party of English retired to the inner court in silence, a silence which was broken by Fitz as soon as they reached the terrace.
“What do you intend to do?” he demanded of Stratford, glaring at him with eyes still full of the horror inspired by what he had just heard.
“Don’t ask me!” said Lady Haigh, taking the question as addressed to herself; and sitting down at the table, she began to sob heavily. “I shall become a gibbering idiot if this sort of thing goes on,” she wailed.
“I don’t know what you wanted to pretend to discuss things for,” said Dick, gruffly. “What’s the good of fooling about with consultations when I told you I was going?”
“Excuse me,” said Stratford, “you are quite mistaken. I am going.”
Lady Haigh ceased her sobs and looked at him in astonishment, while Dick uttered an inarticulate exclamation. Fitz alone retained the power of speech.
“Let me go, Mr Stratford,” he entreated. “Not you; you can’t be spared. My life isn’t of any value; but every one here depends on you in this fix. I would do anything for Miss Keeling, and be proud to do it. You will let me go, won’t you? It doesn’t signify what happens to me.”
“Stuff and nonsense, Anstruther!” said Stratford, good-humouredly. “There is plenty for you to do yet. Don’t you see that when the King has demanded the man in authority, he is scarcely likely to be willing to accept you instead? You are pretty well known in Kubbet-ul-Haj, certainly; but although Fath-ud-Din might be glad to welcome you as a fellow-victim with me, he would hardly regard you with favour as a substitute.”
“What are we to do without you, Mr Stratford?” asked Lady Haigh, piteously. “Sir Dugald left everything in your charge.”