CHAPTER XXIII
NARRATIVE CONTINUED
When Redgauntlet left the room, in haste and discomposure, the first person he met on the stair, and indeed so close by the door of the apartment that Darsie thought he must have been listening there, was his attendant Nixon.
‘What the devil do you here?’ he said, abruptly and sternly.
‘I wait your orders,’ said Nixon. ‘I hope all’s right!—excuse my zeal.’
‘All is wrong, sir. Where is the seafaring fellow—Ewart—what do you call him?’
‘Nanty Ewart, sir. I will carry your commands,’ said Nixon.
‘I will deliver them myself to him,’ said Redgauntlet; call him hither.’
‘But should your honour leave the presence?’ said Nixon, still lingering.
‘‘Sdeath, sir, do you prate to me?’ said Redgauntlet, bending his brows. ‘I, sir, transact my own business; you, I am told, act by a ragged deputy.’