“I met him in close and secret communication with the notorious ——.”
“My dear Mr Thorne, excuse me, I have heard all that explained by my father. His confidence must go further with me than the suspicion of another, even if that other be——Oh, Mr Thorne, you can scarcely fancy how much I am relieved, how much I am indebted to you for your frankness; but I must trust Le Brun. And now, as the dance is finished—which, by the way,” said she with a smile, “you appear to have forgotten—I shall feel obliged to you for a glass of wine, for indeed I feel very faint.”
In spite of every exertion of our hero, the small party went off very stiffly, and at an early hour the whole company had disappeared except the two midshipmen, Thorne, and Griffin; when Mendoza and Le Brun entered the sala with the air of men who had just escaped from a long, troublesome, and anxious job, and who rub their hands with delight at having finished it.
“Come, Le Brun,” said Mendoza, “after our long sederunt, let us have a glass of the best the girls can give us. Ha! Thorne, how are you? wherever you are there is sure to be champagne—so champagne be it.” But Le Brun declined, and bidding an affectionate adieu to the ladies, and making a formal bow to Thorne, he withdrew.
“Hang me if I like that man!” said Thorne.
“I never knew a man who flinched from his liquor stand by his friend; and I shall make a point of telling him so,” said Griffin, following up Thomas’s resentment.
“That may be the case in Ireland, friend, but cannot apply here,” said Mendoza. “But come, we can finish a bottle of champagne without any assistance. I leave you to-morrow, Thorne,” he said in a whisper: “the blood-hounds are on the qui vive, but you will see me double them.”
Scarcely were the words out of his mouth, when a rap was heard at the door. A servant entered pale and trembling, to inform his master that two of the “friends of liberty” were at the door, and wished to speak to the Patron.
Had a thunderbolt fallen at their feet, the whole party could not have stood more aghast. Of the object of their visit at twelve o’clock at night, there could be no mistake. The ladies threw themselves upon their father and wept aloud; protesting with tears and sobs that they should never tear him from them. “Thorne, Griffin, young gentlemen, you will defend my father, will you not? They shall tear us in pieces before they separate us,” sobbed Anita, franticly. The midshipmen, in their enthusiasm, drew their swords. Thorne produced two small pistols from a great-coat pocket; but Griffin,—he was the most collected of the whole.
“Be cool, ladies; I will save your father. Thorne, give me your pistols. Servant, go to the door—say Mr Mendoza will be there in a moment—say he is putting on his cloak. Now, Mendoza, be a man—no time for acting the father or crying now. Ladies, one of you get me your father’s cloak and hat. Now, Mendoza, are you listening to me?”