“I’ll take you to her--”
He was interrupted by the entrance of a small man who strode quickly into the room and sat at once in an empty chair near the door. As the newcomer entered, Henry half-rose and saluted, receiving a slight nod of recognition in return.
“Who’s your friend?” I asked, gruffly.
“Sh-h! not so loud,” and he scowled at me. “That’s Captain Howard.”
“Who the saints is Captain Howard? Can he drink ale?” I asked.
“I wouldn’t ask him if I were you. He’s not a man of peace,” and he looked at me slantwise.
“I see,” I answered, and I looked the stranger over carefully. He was quite small in stature and his face was pale. His hands were soft, white, and effeminate-looking. Upon one finger a huge diamond sparkled. Just then he turned his gaze to meet mine, and I must admit his eyes gave me quite a turn. They were as glassy and expressionless as those of a fish. His whole smooth face, in fact, seemed to express nothing but vacancy. I had never seen a human face so devoid of expression. There was hardly a line in it save about the drooping corners of his mouth.
“He don’t look dangerous,” I said, with a chuckle. “However, I’m not hunting trouble, and, if you think he’ll be offended at my acquaintance, he can go without it.”
“He’s related to the great English house,--them--them ar’stocrats, ye know. That’s the way he’s got the king’s pardon.”
“Pardon for what?” I asked.